Promethean Blood
by Lunar
Summary: A trio of deadly cyborg terroristas are determined to make Olympus' latest world summit into a truly explosive political statement! Deunan and Briareos must use all their strength and smarts to to stay one step ahead of their latest troubles, both professional and personal, in their adopted Utopia. Mangaverse
1. Chapter 1

**Promethean Blood - ch 1 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Deunan came awake with the feeling she'd had a near miss with being crushed. Her ears were ringing, and through her helmet, the world around her refused to come into focus, everything wavering and dark, in the narrow confines of the corridor, the emergency light streaming beams of yellow light as it flickered in it's mount. She felt like she'd just been hit by a car. Her ribs protested violently as she tried to breathe. Deunan heard herself moan as if from far away. Dizzily attempting to rub her aching neck, she blinked, finding her arms trapped by fallen metal beams. A broken off light fixture swayed just beyond where she was pinned, small bubbles rising upwards.

"109! 109!"

"Briareos?" She shook her head slowly, trying to gather her wits, jarred by the sound of her own call code. There'd been an explosion, hadn't there? The ringing in her ears resolved a little, letting her distinguish the emergency klaxon from the internal din, and her partner's frantic calls over both. "Briareos? What happened?"

"Deunan your signal's coming from inside the hull! Get out now!" The urgency in his words kicked her fuzzy thoughts into high gear. She wasn't cross-eyed, she realized abruptly, she was under water. No wonder it was hard to breathe, Deunan immediately curbed her impulse to gasp in fear, knowing she had limited air to work with now that her suit had sealed. Thank god it had, she mused. Or she'd have drowned before coming-to. Able to focus on the heads-up display within her helmet she noticed that it was trying to alert her to the fact that she was below sea level and falling.

"My Garthim's switched into ADM mode! I can't move..." She spoke as she found, testing both arms and legs. Between being pinned by the wreckage around her, and her armor's stubborn stiffness on being at close range to a massive explosion, she could barely breathe properly, never mind move her arms and legs enough to get leverage against the wall. Or was it the floor? There was no way to tell which way was up. The bubbles were moving chaotically as the ship fell through the water, likely rolling along the way.

A clattering noise came to her from the outside of the hull almost distracted her from his next words. "I've found you. Hold on. I'm applying PE based on signal triangulation. It could be close, so hang on to something..."

"Christ." She told herself to remain calm and tried to find something to brace herself against that _wasn't_ the wall her partner was about to blast through in order to get to her. Better him setting the charge than anyone else, Deunan thought morbidly. He had a vested interest in not blowing her to kingdom-come. "Ready when you are, handsome."

"Stand by." He replied pithily, then counted off from three. A roar of compressed gas knocked her about as if she was a doll, first pushing her forward, then back with a ripping vortex of water thanks to the new hole in the side of the ship. Deunan pushed urgently at her prison and felt the piled debris give way, loosened by the shock wave and quick currents. Kicking and shoving, she managed to get herself almost free before help arrived. A giant hand caught her by the shoulder, providing further leverage while a second cybernetic limb easily block several new bits of trash from falling on her as the wreck shuddered around them.

"Not a very classy entrance was it..." She couldn't help but tease him weakly, as she kicked free of the last of the broken pipes and panels and cleared the newly made hole. He kept a guiding hand on her until she was past him and surrounded by clear water.

"Idiot." He chided, clearly not in the mood for jokes. "165 feet and dropping! Does your vest still work?"

Deunan smiled at his preoccupation with her safety, working the releases on her armor that would vent the compressed air and lift her towards the surface to prove to him that she'd be fine. Neither the explosion, or the ensuing rescue had done her armor any critical damage, and the mechanisms all worked as they should. "I'm alright. Thanks to my prince..."

"You surface first," Briareos ducked past her into the still sinking wreck. Not listening for her complements, complaints, or anything else once he'd ascertained her safety, he was gone, working his way deeper into the crumbled hull, doubtless searching for others. Deunan let her armor carry her upwards, confident that she couldn't do him any more good without her her own Hermes-enhanced landmate. Other than the near-miss of being sucked into a hydrojet intake, thanks to some overly zealous coastal police patrol-boats, she made it to the surface without any further drama.

The scramble of officers on the surface was just as chaotic as the sinking wreck below. Deunan made for the first available life-raft, already half full of drenched SWAT officers and heaved herself aboard. There was one opportunistic bastard who tried to cop a feel in getting her into the boat, but the rest of the rescue operation seemed to be proceeding in a reasonably professional manner. Nobody was exactly calm, or happy, to have been handed their asses so handily by a group of no-name terrorists during a routine boarding, but nobody was dead either.

She was inclined to take what she could from the situation. It would be up to the CIS guys with the navy now, to find out what the hell had happened. Knowing that her partner could use the help when it came time for the wrap, she pulled herself together in order to assist with marshaling the confused officers into drawing up an inventory of gear lost in their impromptu swimming session. Luckily it wasn't as bad as she'd first feared, most gear easily recovered from the surface, their own attack boat scorched, but usable in the aftermath. Even with the reasonably good inventory sheet, she was confident that there was going to be some yelling from the maintenance crews later.

The best news so far, that her own exo had been spared by dint of it being on deck when the blast had gone off, was enough to distract her for a moment from the inevitable reaming she would get over the repair-bill from the techs at HQ. Some thoughtful teammate had lifted it onto the rescue boat for her and it stood ready to go when the command came. Barely had she time to do more than lean into her cockpit to check the readouts, when she was obliged to pay attention to the com channels for updates. Fresh reports on their run away terrorists were coming in from all sides, harbor police, SWAT, ESWAT, and satellite surveillance all reporting at the same time about their run-away escape pods, and possible landing vectors for the fleeing suspects.

She cursed and turned instinctively towards her mech, torn between giving chase to their runaways and staying to assist with the last handful of rescues. Briareos resurfaced with a minor eruption of water just off the bow of the ship, depositing three waterlogged looking SWAT officers on deck for their teammates to see to. It was his op, she decided, turning to him as he skirted the ship towards her, as nimble as a pixie, despite his bulk, thanks to the massive Hermes drive coils in his suit. He was the one calling the shots. "So are we going after the b-"

Instead of an answer, she was startled by the feel of his hand sweeping forward to catch her by the back of her head, yanking her towards him as he bent down. For a moment she wasn't sure whether he was clumsily trying to pick her up, or knock her back into the bay. Barely catching herself against his shoulders, she was pleasantly surprised by a swift and crushing kiss. The feel of his tongue was in direct contrast to the cold, and by nature, painfully-hard feel of his chin and nose as they all but knocked heads together with the unexpected gesture. Totally forgetting what she was going to ask him, she flushed brightly at the PDA. And on duty too, no less. Wonders would never cease. He must have been more worried than he'd let on, she mused as she gave him the momentary intimacy he seemed to demand from her.

"You big dummy!" She scolded as he pulled back. It was either that or jump him for 'seconds', with the whole team watching and to hell with professionalism. He _had_ just saved her life, after all. Her big guy deserved _some_ sort of reward. Damned terrorists, she spared a thought for the runaways, resolving to get a kick or two in as just-desserts for the near drowning.

Tasting her mouth as Briareos floated upwards, fully professional once more, calling for her to get suited up to aid in the pursuit, she reappraised the romantic gesture as not worth a repeat after all. Streaming sea-water as he was? She might as well have just kissed a fish.

* * *

After surviving the accumulated crap of their morning fiasco, Deunan had to marvel that she could still be surprised at the way their ill luck just didn't let up as the day wore on. She slid back into the driver seat of their surveillance van with an exhausted sigh and rested her head against the padded cushion to get a moments' reprieve. "Just... damn. What is _up_ with today? Would it really kill someone up there to cut us a break? Just one?"

The scent of peaches from the empty tin can rolling around in the back of the van, leftovers from a snack now hours-old, reminded her yet again of her failure in even getting to eat lunch properly. Sure the blueberry danish had been great, but she'd been seriously looking forward to the trendy bakery's peach crepe. Just her luck, that the damned thing would crumble in her hands and spill with out her so much as getting a proper taste. If not for Briareos' probable waspish commentary, she'd have probably just eaten the mess after picking it up off the floor of their borrowed car, carpet lint and all. It'd be _months_ before she'd get the opportunity to get back to the popular shop to buy another. As it was, she'd humored her partner's justifiably bad mood, not to mention expediency, and trashed the sugary mess without so much as licking her fingers, but she was still feeling bitter about the whole thing, petty though it might be.

Not that the jackass of a manager at Preston Coastguard and his 'it is your fault that my stuff got stolen' attitude, and their now escaped potential-stalker, had helped either of their moods any.

The van tipped slightly as Briareos heaved himself in and slid the door shut. Dropping into the seat at the console behind her, he silently yanked one of his com-cables free from the nest at the back of his neck and plugged into the computers, folding his arms and tucking his chin against his chest. She tilted her head, watching the lines of text effortlessly fill the screen as he filed a report on their latest failed attempt at productivity. Not even bothering to dictate aloud for her benefit or offering her the opportunity to add her feedback, he was guiding the keystrokes with nothing more than his thoughts. His barely contained frustration was practically a taste in the air around him, stale and metallic. Then again, it was probably just the stuffy air of the van itself as it had sat baking in the sun at the top of the mall's parking garage. Either way, the uncomfortable atmosphere perfectly matched their shared misery.

Deunan sighed softly to herself, wishing he'd at least bitch out-loud rather than just silently stewing as his mood got progressively worse. If he didn't vent soon, he was bound to give himself an ulcer, she mused grimly. Or worse, lose his shit at something back at HQ that was only peripherally related to their current headaches and get himself chewed out by one of their superiors. That was a scenario that was both likely, and one she'd like to avoid if at all possible.

Slouching lower in her seat, she gunned the ignition and coaxed the AC on, letting the vehicle idle as she waited for his all-clear to go back to the central annex. Their frantic sweep of the mall, and its attached mass transit station had been a 'fun' distraction, but with no stalker-in-hand to show for it, they had functionally just wasted two-hours that the higher-ups would undoubtedly tell them should have been spent in training with their squad. They'd head back soon enough. Not keen to face her inevitable chewing-out any sooner than she had to, she tapped her fingers on the wheel and tried to focus her thoughts on what she'd seen and done since Briareos had first noticed their tail back at Preston's office. Just because he wasn't asking for input didn't let her off the hook in terms of her own personal take on their recent cat-and-mouse game, not to mention the stolen mini-submersibles they'd been searching for in the first place. She'd be just as responsible during debriefing as he was, and didn't have the luxury of his photographic memory.

Had Briareos even bothered to pick up some food from any of the kiosks during their sweep? She retraced their sweep of the mall for the missing cyborg-woman, and while she remembered _thinking_ about grabbing something as she'd run past the various stands, she certainly hadn't actually acted on the impulse. Her own cyborg hadn't even indulged in the canned peaches she'd lifted from the safe house. She couldn't really remember the last time he'd bothered to eat. Not since before their early-morning roll out, she figured. Enhanced digestive-track or not, he had to be starving. That probably wasn't helping his mood either.

Glancing back at him again, she decided that if he wasn't going to mention it, she was hardly going to remind him. Letting him vent about their shitty day was one thing. Volunteering to be the next target for him to aim his thwarted fury at was something else. He'd already scolded her plenty for one day. She wasn't interested in another verbal fencing match with her surly partner. Even if they both knew he didn't mean anything personal by it, the words still had a way of hurting.

The computers beeped plaintively as Briareos unjacked at last, sitting back with a soft noise of annoyance. "You want in on this before I send it?"

"I'll take a look, yeah." She blinked and heaved herself out of the seat to read over his shoulder. It looked as legit as it could, given how little information they had to share. A summary of their interview with the people at Preston for their submersible inquiry, a second summary of the tail they'd picked up, given chase to, then subsequently lost. She had nothing really to add to it. Patting him on his shoulder she slid forward again and belted herself in. "Send it in, tin-man. Nothing more we can do here."

"No kidding." He growled, annoyed, but mostly at himself. "Get us back to HQ. The sooner they start shouting, the sooner they'll stop."

"Or at least that's the theory." Deunan agreed dryly. "I'm almost looking forward to sparing practice today... maybe if I punch the damned bag hard enough, I can trick myself into feeling like I've accomplished something for the day."

His soft snort of cynical agreement as he let her play chauffeur only confirmed his sour mood. He couldn't even be bothered to sit up front and keep her company for the sake of it? She rolled her eyes as she merged into traffic and navigated back to the training center. Twelve-hours of active duty time down, twelve to go. Then eight 'off' then another twenty-four on... and repeating until after the damned Islamic Federation conference? They'd both be basket cases by the end of the constant rotations between active and semi-active duty as the whole team stayed at high-alert for the duration. Just over a week left before the big summit, and the crazies were getting into full-swing in preparation for the political circus descending on the city, nevermind what would likely crop up during the conference itself. Bomb threats, assassination threats, abduction threats, general protests, arms smuggling, tech smuggling, espionage, even petty larceny seemed to have a massive uptick as the international big-wigs all rolled into town.

It reminded her of the _last_ big conference that she'd been 'privileged' enough to work during. Nothing but spies, and rogue diplomats, and that stupid, _stupid_ bowl-cut-wearing-asshole who'd gotten away from her when she was obliged to choose between chasing him or snaring a whole nest of cop-killing-terrorists she'd stumbled on in his wake. Even with months of hindsight in her favor, no amount of yelling from Lance could convince her that she made the 'wrong' choice, per say. But in the privacy of her own thoughts, it still galled her sharply every time she pictured the mystery-man's face. Who he was, how he'd gotten entry into Olympus, what he'd wanted here, and where he'd gone off to after that night, were all questions without answers. Next time she saw him? Deunan was determined to repay him for the humiliation he'd caused her, with interest.

"Hey, watch it. Don't drive angry, woman. This isn't the right day, nor do we have the right wheels, for stunt driving. Whatever it is you're pissed over at the moment, give it a raincheck for later. Ok?"

Briareos' scold brought her back to the present with a jolt, realizing she'd been functionally on 'auto pilot' as she'd steered them down the multi-lane highway. She corrected herself with a curse and checked her instinctive urge to aggressively pass the car ahead of her just because she could. He was right. The last thing they needed today was for her to cause a pileup on top of everything else.

"Got it handled." She agreed grimly. "Any reply yet?"

"Just the usual. 'Check in at training grounds, await further orders' bullshit." He sighed again. "I just-"

"I know." She murmured, feeling his anger mirroring her own. Hell, some sparring would probably do him a world of good too. Provided he could get a chance to really unleash against some inanimate objects. "Believe me."

"This day is only going to get worse." Briareos muttered to himself, resting his elbows on his knees, little more than a disgruntled shadow in the windowless back-half of the van. "I just know it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Promethean Blood - ch 2 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

"What? What do you mean, 'they beached the sub'?!" Deunan pulled her communicator away from her ear, ignoring the still-complaints of the maintenance crews over her landmate's damage in favor of staring in surprise at her partner.

Briareos was too busy swearing to notice her, up and pacing back and forth as he listened to his built-in radio. Their dinner, a pair of take-away burritos from the shack just a block from HQ, was left forgotten on the bench as he tersely demanded to be included on subsequent status updates and then pressed both of his oversized hands to his metal plated skull as if trying to fend off a migraine.

"Guys… I'm going to have to call you back." She hung up on the man who was still yelling at her over how exactly she'd managed to get an arm sheared off the heavily-plated exo-suit so early in the morning. There'd be hell to pay for cutting the chief off, she knew, but with her cyborg on the verge of a nervous breakdown she had to prioritize. "Bri?"

He sat back on the bench with wince-inducing force, compelling her to catch her bottled water before it spilled. Still with head in hands he, leaned forward with a noise of frustrated impatience. "_Damn it!_"

"What sub? And who beached it?" She shifted the remains of their dinner out of the way and reached over to shake his arm. "Bri? Come on big guy, you're freaking me out..."

"I think I've just won the award for worst situation commander _ever_, Deunan. It just gets worse and worse… Christ. What next?!" He leaned back staring up at the clear sky overhead as if waiting for a meteorite to fall. "Seriously. My first fucking command here, and it's just… how many hours has it been since the raid? Six? And the shit keeps piling higher?"

"Ok." She stood up and moved behind where he was sprawled, catching his chin in her hands so as to force him to pay attention to her rather than continue spazzing out. Briareos paused as he was compelled to stare up at her rather than the sky, blinking as he adapted to her upside down glare. "Please remember, I wasn't jacked in on your phone call? Tell me about the sub. This is _our_ sub I take it? The one helping us this morning?"

He exhaled slowly and then nodded. "The police submarine, yes. It's beached. They were assisting with the wreckage retrieval while we were dealing with the cleanup from our suicidal-terrorist and showering off the salt. Since they weren't formally part of our op team, I didn't get the reports while we were off playing cat-and-mouse but apparently they sustained hull-damaged by some sort of explosion at the scene of the wreck."

"Holy shit." She gaped at him. "Even the wreck was rigged? How the hell did they manage that on top of blowing the crap out of it with us still on board? Some kind of lingering HE that survived the initial sinking?"

"Won't know until the analysts take a good long look at the hole it made in the sub." He sighed again. "It was either abandon ship or drive it up onto the beach. At least Officer 92 and the guys we left on the beach are alright. The remaining cargo we recovered's been swept into Depot3 for the CIS jokers to paw through, if there's any clues to be had. But the chopper pilot swears he saw torpedos in the water right before the sub took a hit, there's just no trace of a source for'em! So now we've got a wreck, _and_ a potential phantom terrorist submarine that has probably gotten first crack on anything left aboard while we've been too busy bailing out our own boats to stop them. We don't even have a f'ing manifest to know what they took because we were rushing to get the beached goods to a secure location… and _of course_ smugglers don't keep inventory sheets…"

"If they did, they're probably burnt to crumbs and now scuttled with a potentially booby-trapped wreck at the bottom of the bay." Deunan agreed grimly, thinking of their chaotic morning. "Christ, what a cluster-fuck today has turned out to be."

Briareos removed her hands and sat up slowly, pulling her around the bench and guiding her to perch in her habitual spot on his knee. Leaning forward he pressed his face against her shoulder with a tired groan. "If I don't survive the full debriefing I've got coming tomorrow… I want you to go on with your life and not waste time mourning over me. Get a nice rich husband, retire to a little hacienda somewhere, and if anyone asks about me, just say I wasn't _always_ this incompetent, ok?"

"Bri…" She had to laugh at his overly-plaintive tone. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a hug. It had been a long day, she sighed, and didn't look to be wrapping up any time soon. "It's not that bad. Really."

"Not- _Deunan_." He sputtered as he sat up to look her in the eye. "First? The ship I'm supposed to be commandeering _explodes_ with two teams worth of specialists on board. The fact that we didn't lose ten guys this morning when that explosion went off was nothing short of miraculous, but five potential interrogation candidates among the crew are now missing presumed drowned. Hardly a successful opener to the day I think. Then? The one target that we do manage to chase to shore goes and makes sashimi of herself right in front of my eyes, but not after damn near totaling our exos! Now, I learn that the sub I left behind to do some routine salvage got shot up while we were all bitching and picking up bits of dead terrorist, and half the contraband probably is stolen."

He rubbed his head again as he growled wordless to himself. "All of which tells me we should have been concentrating _a lot_ harder on the cargo in the first place! I bet you anything the Mufadi-girl we were chasing was just a blind. Now we've got no cargo, no crew, no suspect, _and_ to add insult to injury… our mysterious tail managed to give me the slip at the shopping district! I'm looking at probably 20 pieces of official SWAT and ESWAT equipment severely damaged, multiple wounded subordinates, multiple _deceased_ suspects, and a large volume of highly questionable equipment now in the hands of the Olympus criminal network a week before a major international conference… and absolutely _nothing_ to show for it."

Briareos leaned forward again, resuming his earlier slouch against her shoulder with a defeated groan. "So you tell me, girl. What, in my glorious debut today as an ESWAT team-leader, did I do _right_? Hmm?" Her cyborg pressed his face tighter against her chest, taking her up on her wordless offer to hide from his problems for a moment. Continuing in a softer if no less bitter tone he sighed in defeat. "Fuck it. I'm done. So much for looking forward to a pay-raise this year… I'll be lucky if I'm not fired tonight. What do you want to bet me that this is all over the news too…"

Holding him close, Deunan rubbed the back of his head, acknowledging to herself that it _did_ look pretty bad. "Hey." She rested her cheek against him. "They can't possibly blame you for the wrecked sub, at least. That was in no way your fault."

"Not helping, girl." He grumbled, pulling away from her shirt. Settling back on the bench he reached for his forgotten water bottle in favor of sucking listlessly at the straw. "I should have at least warned them to be on the lookout for further sneakiness."

"Bullshit." Deunan disagreed. "First off? You did warn them. I was there, remember? Second?They're big boys and they ought to have been able to look out for themselves. We're not under-sea experts, that what they were there for in the first place. The ship _exploded and sank_, handsome. That was _not_ something on our briefing sheet in terms of things to look out for. After watching _that_ circus unfold? They ought to have been alert to further nastiness in the wreckage before they got anywhere near it."

Briareos wasn't easily mollified, even by a well reasoned argument. Too bent on blaming himself to listen to common sense, he chucked his empty bottle into the bin. The frustrated energy in his toss caused the can to clatter loudly, startling an assortment of nearby pigeons into flight. "Aaaaaargh this is ridiculous. I had everything planned! How could I fuck up this badly!"

"I don't think that you did." She rubbed his plating again, trying to cheer him. They were starting to become street theater, she realized with dark humor. People were stopping and taking notice of his minor tantrum as he blew off steam from the spectacular series of disasters that had been their Tuesday thus far. Briareos would undoubtedly be kicking himself over that too, once he cooled down. Deunan mused over how best to coax him to move their conversation to someplace a little more private before some enterprising street vendor set up shop next to them with drinks and popcorn for the audience.

"Come on," she encouraged him with a tired smile as she stood and pressed her palms against her sore back muscles for a moment's relief. "If Lance really thought you were botching it, he'd have had Sudoh or someone up our asses before you could even say 'turning over command', right? The fact that he only yanked us in favor of Magus after the Munma link was made, and not when he was hearing the preliminary reports – and you _know_ he was seeing those as they came in – tells me that either he had no idea it would go this far off the rails, the same as us…" She held up a hand to stall him when he pulled back to protest. "Or, more likely, he figured you weren't screwing up anymore than anyone else would when in your position. You made the right decisions with the information you had at the time, big guy. Don't go armchair-quarterbacking yourself after the fact. You didn't know what they were after. You had to cover your bases. We thought the cargo was secured, so we went after the leads tied to the terrorist suspect. Standard procedure. By the book. You weren't hot-dogging, you weren't acting irresponsibly, you were doing the best you could with the variables you were given. You _know_ this. Stop beating yourself up."

"I just wish I knew what the hell they took off that wreck." He sighed again as he relaxed enough to reach for his forgotten burrito. Studying it in his hands he morosely took a bite and watched the small plaza around them with a dejected look. "I could have really used a by-the-book day today, you know? Why did my _first_ command have to be the one that goes straight to hell…"

"I know." Deunan commiserated. "But hey, if it makes you feel any better? I doubt they're going to give you the award for 'worst'… Ten dollars says that they're saving it for me, should I ever get a turn in the saddle."

He snorted and looked over at her as she swung herself up onto the back of the bench to sit next to his shoulder. Reaching down she retrieved her water bottle and took a swig before giving him an encouraging smile. "Come on, Briareos, you remember LA. _I'm_ the one who managed to be responsible for wrecking what, twenty-seven civilian vehicles, remember? Including two antique-and-one-of-a-kind hotrods, a yacht, a mid-sized tanker ship, and like… a whole cargo plane, all within the span of four hours? I honestly thought dad was going to kill me! I almost _wanted_ him to, honestly. It'd have been easier to deal with than all the paperwork. Even with the war and all, I'd be surprised to hear that my record's been broken..."

"I remember." Briareos chuckled softly. "To this day I have nightmares about watching that plane tip into the harbor. I doubt the insurance adjusters for the city will ever forgive you for that."

"It wasn't my fault!" She grimaced, "How was I to know the tanker had an anchor chain that was going to drag across the runway when it tipped?!"

He chuckled again. "Fair enough. You win. Compared to _that_, today could have been worse. But still… I really screwed up. Magus is not going to be thrilled with taking over on this one, I can just tell..."

Deunan twisted a little to knock his shoulder with her knee. "I can think of one thing you didn't screw up today."

"Oh yeah?" He looked back at her. "Enlighten me, hellcat, because frankly I could really use some good news for a change."

"Idiot." She sighed. "You saved my life, old man. Remember? Another five minutes and I'd have been sucking sea-water down there. Anyone else setting the PE that close to where I was pinned? And I'd have probably been mashed-policegirl-bits rather than rescued. Thanks to you, I, and several other guys, got out of that sinking freighter with nothing worse than a good soaking. That's pretty cool, I think."

He met her gaze with a mix of evident surprise and belated wonder as he was reminded of the frantic damage control he'd managed in the aftermath of the ship's self-destruction. Deunan raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to dismiss his actions as anything less than heroic. Briareos looked away with an embarrassed noise, shaking his head before looking back at her. "You doing alright? We haven't really slowed down since… you ever get anyone to check out your ribs this morning?"

"I'm fine." She reached out to rub her fingers along his cheek-guard. "Nothing worse than some bruises. I'll be achy for a day or two, and that's that."

"Good." He nodded to himself, sliding a hand over his head to rub his neck tiredly. "That'd be the final straw right now, girl. I swear. If something had happened to you because of _my_ stupidity…? I'd just lay down in the road and ask the next truck that went by to back over my head. "

"Don't say shit like that." She scolded. "You are not allowed to contemplate suicide over this debacle until it hits _at least_ the five million mark in terms of departmental expenses. You hear me? We'll turn this thing around. You'll see. We got a good look at the crazy woman who was stalking us earlier. She can't hide forever, and when Gaia finds her, we'll be back on the trail in no time."

"Assuming of course, that she had anything to do with the whole beach-snafu? She could have been tailing us for some completely different reason." He pointed out dryly. Deunan made a face at him, gathering up her remaining chunk of dinner and cramming it in her mouth before something _else_ interrupted her meal.

"I think it's time you had a nap." She scolded once she'd swallowed the last of the beans and rice. "_Someone_'s getting mighty doom-and-gloomy this evening. You always get morbid when you're short on sleep."

She sighed and quickly wracked her tired brains for inspiration. Thankfully they obliged her with something that sounded workable enough to pass for a plan. "Let's go back to HQ. I'll run some new searches against the mainframe before evening drills start, you can catch an hour of shut-eye. We'll catch up with 92 and get a final status report from everyone on the ship… and take it from the top. I bet Magus could use a hand, religious-right-wing specialist or not."

It wasn't great, but at least it was a start. After some peace and quiet, undoubtedly his genius brain would ferret out _something_ they could salvage from the situation. She'd happily do some damage control and a bit of research in the name of giving him time to mentally regroup from his horrible day. Besides, something might still turn up.

"If Lance lets us?" He nodded slowly in acceptance of her short-term agenda. "Sure, why not. It's either that, or we get benched, and right now I'm not sure I mind getting sent home without pay, if it means I don't have to bang my head against this insanity any further. "

Leaning over, Deunan kissed his forehead in consolation. "If it ends up going that way? I'll claim injury and join you, ok? We'll _both_ heckle from the sidelines as _Magus_ sweats over what to do next."

* * *

Olympus might be a futuristic paradise compared to LA, Deunan mused, but the level of bureaucratic bullshit and paperwork was exactly the same. Typing in the same summary details for what felt like the hundredth time, on the hundredth separate document, she sighed and rubbed her ribs as she contemplated just smashing her face into the keyboard and leaving it there until the requisite blanks in the automated form were filled with whatever characters she happened to mash at the time.

Did anyone even read these things? Honestly? She had no idea. The fact that she'd gone from a shipwreck, to a car chase, to foot chase, directly to hand to hand combat practice with the pair of sadists that the department had on retainer for 'advanced training of promising officers' had made for an especially punishing day. She sighed and rubbed her face before finishing her latest form and clicking through to the next one. That one one thing that could be said about ESWAT, she supposed. Even more than back in LA, there was really never a dull moment in Olympus.

Glancing at the clock as her teammates all diligently worked at their consoles around her, she sighed quietly to herself. Twenty hours. Not including the short breaks she'd had to snag lunch en route to a potential lead for their investigation, half of which had landed on the floor of the car, and dinner where she'd spent an hour alternately eating, and trying to council her depressed partner out of turning in his resignation letter, she'd been on her feet since well before dawn. Dusk had long since come and gone again. Deunan yawned into her hand, knowing she'd need to lay down soon or risk going cross-eyed when it counted. The stimulants were wearing off, as they always did towards the tail end of a shift. With the luxury of 'down' time waiting for her in mere hours she was willing to tough it out. Cynical as she was feeling, she wondered what the odds were of her schedule getting shifted for a double with the arrival of some _new_ emergency.

Her ribs were honestly killing her. Deunan chaffed her side again, meditating over going to the infirmary to get some pain meds. She should have worn some padding or something before going for training. She just hadn't really given it any thought until the first lucky-jab on the part of the black-belts trying to 'hone her wild talent'. Good thing Briareos had been cornered by Magus for a quick debriefing, she snorted to herself. If he'd been there to hear her yowl at the hit, she'd probably be cooling her heels in the hospital right now instead of doing more productive things with her night. The bones weren't broken, she and the medics was confident, but the bruising was impressive.

Glancing at the clock again, she made note to wake her partner soon. Hopefully sleep would give him inspiration on what to do with all the dead ends the day's events had left them with. God knew she didn't have any. Theoretically, the shipwreck was Magus' problem now, but that didn't mean that they could, or would, completely brush off the freaky cyborg who had tailed them while they were investigating Preston Inc. and the missing submersible. Could be coincidence, she figured, but it seemed damned unlikely. Magus wouldn't mind them butting in so long as they stayed out from underfoot.

Really, what they needed, she mused, wasn't necessarily to figure out where the private subs were now, although certainly the coastal police would probably love to pick that bit of tech up, especially if one _had_ shot torpedoes at them. What they really wanted to know was how had the gear had been taken in the first place. She smirked, opening a new email to see the long-awaited bill of sale for the missing mini-subs, just her luck, she knew the guys who made them.

"Akichi motors." The girl on the other end of the phone answered in a perky voice. "Can I help you?"

Bioroid, Deunan deduced after the third word. Nobody was ever that _honest_ about wanting to help a potential buyer, except if they were a bioroid. She shook her head at the cynical thought. Honestly most days she liked bioroids better than people, and today looked to be no exception. "Hi. I'm a client of Yoshi's is he available to talk for a moment? I want to check on the progress of a project he's been working on."

"Oh, yes ma'am, right away. Who can I say is calling?" The cheerful girl manning the switchboard was more than happy to oblige with a bit of extra gossip. "He's got some little girls in the shop with him today but I'm sure he'll be able to take a call..."

"Tell him, his friend Deunan is on the phone." She suppressed a smile, able to wager _which_ little girls he was trying to mind while doing his work. Naughty Hitomi, she scolded the woman in absentia as she waited on hold, no fair leaving your poor guy to babysit three holy-terror-toddlers while gallivanting around. Where was Artemis anyway? The unusual bioroid/cat woman creature had a decidedly lax take on parenting her own 'daughters', hyper-precocious clones or not. It spoke volumes for Yoshi's skills that his employer let him have those micro-sized tyrants running amok around the expensive fabrication equipment. Chances were he was getting nothing done this evening, so at least she wouldn't be interrupting any serious work.

"Deunan? Is that you?" An appropriately hang-dog sounding voice interrupted the hold music in no time. "No No Allepia! Don't pull that!" He sighed audibly. "Now's not really a great time... Is something wrong with your Guges?"

"I'll make this quick." Deunan winced at a loud clatter from the other end of the call, hoping that whatever it was, wasn't fragile. "I can hear you're busy. I want to ask you about an order your team worked on, single-pilot sized submersibles, for Preston Coastguard Inc? Preston is saying that they were never delivered... Ring any bells?"

"How the hell did you know... oh shit... have they turned up? Did some gang get them?"

She winced at the sound of his sudden concern, rubbing her forehead. "I hate to ask this, but as a friend, Yoshi, were either of them fitted for small cluster-torpedoes? Even partially?"

"Torpedoes?!" The bioroid's voice cracked as he exclaimed in dismay. "No! Never! We only put weapons modifications on our government jobs, and even then, it's all fully registered and authorized. We don't do... anything _shady_ I swear! I worked on those personally! I wouldn't do that..."

"I didn't say you did." She tried to console the agitated mechanic. "I'm just saying, that I think one was used in a recent attack against a submarine... and it _looked_ like the thing might have been shooting torpedoes. So I'm wondering, if there is something that _is_ civilian that might be modified... by those with evil in their hearts. You know?"

"I don't quite follow..." Yoshi trailed off. "You can come over and look at the detailed parts list? I have all the design drawings still..."

"I may send someone over to grab'em from you." Deunan agreed, resigned to his lack of imagination. "Can you tell me how the subs left your facility at least? I mean, it sounds like the gear was marked as 'delivered' by you guys, but never actually reached it's destination."

"Yeah, funny you called really. I was just told by the boss to look into it. Apparently the customer called and was really mad that he'd received the final invoice but no goods." Yoshi laughed weakly. "It was the first I heard that there was a problem, I thought they'd been delivered weeks ago! Usually I drive deliveries myself, but I was really swamped that day so I didn't. We have some guys we hire who are really good though. We got signed slips back and everything. But what's weird? Is that I called over today to have them verify the shipping number, and they say they have no record of it."

"Weeks?!" Deunan frowned. "Can you tell me exactly what day? Did anyone meet the delivery truck at your shop who'd be willing to look at some photos for me? What's the name of the hauling company you used?"

"Uh sure. I'll ask. I think it was the fifth of the month. I'll check the receipt. The haulers are Hobishi Ltd. South Blue, they're listed in the registry. Do you want the job number? I have it here..."

"If they don't have it in their system, it won't really help me." She mused. "I'll get their details from the database, and take it from here. Thanks Yoshi, you've been a big help. I'll find out what happened to your subs for you, although I can't promise you'll get them back. You may want to tell your boss to start filing insurance paperwork. Someone from the police will probably be in touch to take formal statements anyway."

"O-ok." The bioroid sighed, sounding tired. "Am I in trouble, do you think?"

"Doubt it." Deunan laughed weakly at the sound of another expensive-sounding crash from Yoshi's workshop. "You'd better go before those girls tear apart your place. I'll check in tomorrow ok? Call my personal code if you have any trouble with the local gumshoes. I'll set'em straight."

"Thanks Deunan." Yoshi sounded relieved. "Tell Briareos I said hi. And that I have some new parts he may want to check out, special friends-and-family deal for you guys, like always."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

Deunan called up contact information on the shippers and began filing the necessary paperwork for a search and seizure, just in case. They'd need a trace of all the trucks the depot used, at the very least, she tapped out the appropriate search query against the registry of motor vehicle's database and sat back as she contemplated the results. On a hunch she called up the last quarter's hiring survey and scanned the employee listing at the company, there was nothing of interest in the list of names, but the faces? One in particular caught her eye.

Well, at the very least, she had some good news for her man to wake up to. Pausing to request someone go pull a full background on the trucking company and its employees for the past year, she made her way up a floor to a quieter level of HQ.


	3. Chapter 3

**Promethean Blood - ch 3 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Deunan rocked her empty coffee cup between her fingertips as she let Briareos brood over her findings.

The photo of their potential-truck-driver lay on top of the heap of reports between them. The woman in question wasn't quite as 'alien' looking as the cyborg who had been tailing them, but there were similarities enough that her gut wouldn't let her call it coincidence. Besides, cyborg or not, what was a girl as good looking as that doing taking a temp job at a trucking firm when she could have made three times as much as a waitress in any of a hundred restaurants around town?

It was worth finding her to ask, at any rate.

Deunan's instincts told her that the girl _had_ been involved with the Akichi Motors delivery. Even with only preliminary digging, the cyborg sex-kitten was just too suspicious not to be. Her employer had her listed as 'naturalized alien' but INS had nothing on her. Fake paperwork? Maybe it was a novelty to people who'd lived in Olympus' utopia for a while, but her memories of pre-war LA were still fresh enough that she practically expected it. Hobishi's offices were closed until morning, so no further digging on that path for a few hours. It was all Deunan could do to put Gaia to work digging through records for evidence of when and where the cyborg had last been spotted.

The city's AI was up to the task, scanning for the pretty cyborg's face amongst the hundreds of thousands of frames of images the satellites produced every minute, but the search would only be _really_ effective if they had more data to feed the algorithms; height, weight, alternate camera angles, anything at all other than the one chintzy mug-shot style employment photo they had in front of them. As it stood, the odds of picking her out of a crowd were pretty astronomical. They had better chances of finding their stalker, given the array of cameras she'd been caught by before pulling her disappearing act, and there too, Gaia had no results to give yet.

Deunan always hated this part of the investigation the most. The sheer tedium of the data crunching, hunting for the unenviable needles lost amidst the haystacks. It was so much easier when the perps were out shooting up storefronts. All one had to do then was trace the rounds and run the criminal to ground. Data mining? Left her with nothing to do but practice with her squad and twiddle her thumbs until some computer program turned over a rock somewhere that had something interesting living under it.

Left with the lesser items on her to-do list, she decided to poke around a bit more and try to figure out how the woman had gotten in to Olympus in the first place, and when. On a hunch, Deunan had pulled and started scanning the last month's worth of work and visitors visas issued by customs and border security. Even limited to just female arrivals between the ages of 18 and 50, the amassed data would take days to sort through. God help her if the cyborg had arrived months earlier, or was actually an octogenarian despite her choice of body-type. She'd need to set up _another_ long scan with Gaia's data handlers to sort that amount of information, and probably _still_ have nothing to show for it.

Girl probably got smuggled in somehow anyway, she resigned herself to the inevitable. Some sort of illegal-trafficking was especially likely if their cyborg had anything to do with their equally mysterious stalker from the afternoon.

Briareos hummed thoughtfully as he lined the two photos up side-by-side. Not bothered by the graininess of the security camera imagery for the second one, he tapped his finger against the woman's eyes. "Not just the same style... I bet that they're identical model and size. Could be coincidence, sure, I mean the body type isn't visibly custom in any way, pretty damned generic 'human-android-female' amazon-type, sure, but so are half the sex-dolls out there... Anything they've got custom is probably tucked under the skin where it won't show readily. Would need to get a much more detailed look at their kits to get a better fix on their capabilities…"

Deunan arched an eyebrow as she considered the well-endowed pair of women on the table between them. Sometimes her man really did just leave himself _wide open_ for teasing. She bit her cheek rather than voice the natural come-back she had on the tip of her tongue in regards to him wanting to get a closer look at their kits. Her silence however, seemed to speak volumes to the cyborg sitting across the table from her.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, girlie." He replied to what she hadn't said with dry humor. "It's all fake anyway. Call me old fashioned, but when they can pop off at-will? Or hide high-caliber machine guns? They're considerably less charming. I prefer the genuine article."

"Chain guns would be pretty fun." Deunan mused, letting herself smirk at last. "But in deference to your conservative-tastes? I'll leave my 'girls' as they are, shall I? All-original equipment here."

"I'd take it as a personal favor, yes." Briareos chuckled, sliding his empty cup to the side to get a better look at the initial results to her data sweeps. "We should get a good look at her papers tomorrow, when we go to the shippers to pull her records. If they're fakes, they must have been good ones, not even a blip on the initial scans from the look of things. We should try and figure out who made'em. Or at least pass along the lead to the INS enforcement folks."

She nodded grimly. "Yeah. I think we've got enough on our plate for now, but we can pass it along. Give _them_ something to sweat over too. Share the wealth, right?"

"And you complain about _me_ getting crabby when sleep deprived?" Her cyborg snorted softly. "Ah well. I think we've got enough here to justify our existence to Magus for the night. What do you say we petition to go home early?"

"You know who I think of... when I think of a guy who probably knows _every_ attractive lady cyborg in town? Especially one who might be shady..." Deunan stared at the photos, a sudden, crazy idea distracting her from her previous bitching. The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed. She almost wanted to pat her tired brain in praise for its ability to think in tangents when utterly exhausted.

"I get a feeling I'm going to regret asking." Briareos sighed, rising to the bait. "But who?"

"Sokak." She replied with a grim smile. "You remember him, you were part of his debriefing team when we came back from Operation Benadetti. Three-eyed cyborg. Former SAS turned mercenary explosives expert? Considers himself god's gift to women... and an all around smooth operator?"

"The one who nearly dropped a building on you this spring in the name of 'assisting' with your arrest?" He made the connection easily enough, clearly unamused by the incident. Briareos' voice warmed slightly as he continued. "The one who's _car_ you rigged to blow on ignition afterward?"

Deunan grinned at the memory. "That's the one! What do you suppose he and his gang of misfit-toys are up to these days?"

"Other than abiding by the narrow confines of the law, on pain of immediate detention?" Her partner drawled, "Undoubtedly some kind of mischief. Are we overdue to pay him a visit? Out of... friendly concern for his well-being, of course. We could see how he's acclimating to live as a model-citizen."

"You know, he once offered to sell me a little toy that would drive any red-blooded cyborg to untold heights of passion and pleasure." She smiled archly as she collected their cups and stood to drop them in the nearest recycle bin. "I don't know, handsome, you think that's something you might be interested in? Maybe I should ask if he's still selling. Just in case we ever get bored one of these evenings."

"Boredom will never be a problem for us." Briareos disagreed firmly. "But let's go say hello, just for old time's sake. I'll call his parole officer and get an address while you drive. It's not _that_ late. He's bound to be out somewhere, and if he's half stoned at the local bar, he'll be that much chattier..."

"You'd think he'd have learned by now to be careful of where he goes drinking, honestly. It'd be nice to see if he's picked up all the pieces of himself after that terrible car bomb incident." Deunan smirked as she followed him out the door. "If one of his three eyes is working, he can take a look at our photos for us."

* * *

Briareos paused outside the door to the noisy bar and looked upwards. Deunan paused as well, smiling to herself with how anyone who didn't know better might think her man was absentmindedly star-gazing. Undoubtedly what he was looking at was considerably more interesting than the night sky above, made dull by the cheerful light-pollution of Olympus' network of cities. Probably he didn't _have_ to look anywhere in particular as he communed with the geosynchronous satellites circling overhead, but in unguarded moments he was still inclined to 'look' at the computers he was linking to even with the years of practice. Such a human quirk, for a supposed 'perfect' synthesis of man and machine, she supposed with a wider grin. Those quirks were what proved he was still human first-and-foremost, the rest was just cosmetics. "See him?"

"Yeah. I got him." He snorted with soft satisfaction. "Hasn't budged an inch since we left other than to take a piss, from the looks of things. Back patio, by the overlook. The cronies seem to have stayed home tonight. I can't account for all of them though. Someone may show up later."

Deunan shrugged, rolling the sleeves of her loose shirt and fluffing her hair to further improve her 'off duty' look. It was nice to be out of the office, even if just for an hour or two. If Sokak had nothing of use for them, at least she could enjoy a drink or two for her troubles. Looking up again, she found Briareos watching her preparations rather than the invisible satellites above.

"So." He drawled. A twitch of his extendibles implied his old eyebrow quirk almost as well as the real thing. "How do you want to play this, hmm? Good cop, bad cop?" He pointed first to himself then to her. "All he knows of me, really, is that I'm with ESWAT and that we use the same clinic for our routine maintenance. I can play it however from there. Gives us some options, I figure."

"Hmm." Deunan looked him over as she too considered their possible tactics. He'd changed into the random set of 'civvies' he kept in his work locker for just these occasions, and was looking nondescript, if albeit a little preppy in the ironed trousers. Not for the first time, she recognized the fact that her man looked all together too-sexy in a tight t-shirt. Deunan chided herself to save such thoughts for later, after they'd finished their hunt.

Neither of them kept a lot of variety at work, she mused. Had they the stamina, or time, to run home? She'd have probably pulled on something a bit more trampy to catch Sokak's eye. As it was, her scoopnecked shirt and pleated skirt weren't bad, they just didn't quite scream 'cheap date' the way some of her other outfits did. It just meant she'd have to ham it up a bit more, she decided, if she wanted to flirt with the idiot. Honestly she wasn't even sure if trying to bait the cyborg would work.

The guy wasn't stupid. Arrogant and self centered? Sure, but not stupid. He knew she was at least SWAT, if not ESWAT, thanks to their encounter in the spring. Before that? They'd passed each other plenty atthe cybernetics clinic since his arrival. She'd wave at the familiar face, Sokak and his buddies would occasionally flirt harmlessly, but he had to know that she and Briareos were an item, at least superficially. She wondered for a moment if he'd hold back on stepping into another guy's territory and promptly dismissed the idea. Sokak was the kind of guy to take anything, and everything offered, and weasel his way out of trouble later if it arose.

So really, the only serious risk in her flirting a bit, was the whole car-bomb thing. Deunan studied the street as the light changed, the traffic far lighter now that it was approaching midnight than it was in daylight. It was unlikely that Sokak would put two-and-two together yet to realize that she was the one who'd rigged his car to explode. She'd made sure that the catalyzing gel she'd used was too generic to be easily traceable. And with Briareos' help configuring the charges, the wiring style was too much of a mash-up to point to any one school of influence.

A small smile came to her as she remembered Sokak's smashed and scorched look as he'd staggered in shock after the blast. Not bad enough to stop him, or even slow him down, the explosion had to have _hurt_. That, combined with his totaled-car and the by-necessity major down-payment he'd have to make on repairing his kit, she decided was about equal to the trouble he had caused for her. An eye for an eye, her smirk grew larger. Or in his case? Two of his eyes, for one of hers.

"You look evil when you smile like that." Briareos snorted in amusement, drawing her back to their present speculation. "You're _definitely_ bad-cop tonight . Unless you want me to play bad-cop so that you can be worse-cop."

"I'm thinking… I'll be bent-cop, who's actually a bad-cop. And you can be my rules-dick-cop, who's actually a dirty-cop." She smiled playfully up at him, noting his head-tilt of interest as he considered her proposal. "He probably already suspects as much, given his own mercenary background. We can just… fulfill his expectations, right?"

"Bent, huh?" He snorted again, shrugging to show his agreement. "So we're just two bastards with badges, off duty and looking for a fun time?"

"Sure!" Deunan reached up and smoothed the fabric of his shirt over his shoulder in a teasing gesture. "The idiot's flirted with _me_ often enough. Only fair I return the favor. Want to place a bet on whether I can hook him before the hour's out?"

"No bet." He shook his head, hands sliding around her back as if to remind her he was still her preferred cyborg. "Not with you in the mood you're in right now. I'll just follow your lead, I think."

"Good plan. Give me a ten minute head-start and then follow me in." She winked at him, toying with his t-shirt once more before reluctantly letting him go. It'd been a while since they'd had a chance to go out and do something fun. Even thought they were theoretically 'on duty' still, shaking down Sokak was enough like 'fun' to make her feel better about their recent drudgery. "This is going to be great."

Leaving him to cool his heels by the door, Deunan pushed into the bar's crowded front room. She didn't bother with the cheerful mob of dancers in the main annex, squeezing along the periphery until able to make her way to the back of the building. A second room hosted the majority of the bar-top, complete with a dazzling array of bottled and beer-taps. Clearly for patrons who preferred a quieter atmosphere to get plastered in, it opened out onto a wide deck overlooking the steeply sloped neighborhoods on the southern side of the island. Deunan inhaled the sea-breeze appreciatively from the open sided room. She had to give Sokak credit, his regular drinking-hole was pretty classy. It was a bit far from home for them to add to their usual rotation, she figured, but the bar was definitely worth remember for the next time she and Briareos wanted a night out.

Spotting the cyborg she was seeking in the crowd was simple. Sokak's unique body type made him stand out in most groups, much as her partner's did. Deunan hit the bar first, acquiring a tall drink to celebrate surviving such as a crap day, and then carried it over to where her target was lounging.

"This seat taken?" She gestured across the table from where the cyborg sat. Sliding into the empty chair, she didn't wait for him to answer, taking ownership before he could do more than blink in mellow surprise.

"You?" The cyborg sat up, glancing around the bar as if expecting a squad to come through the walls for a take down. "Crap, and there goes the neighborhood." Sokak joked weakly. "Hello Tigress, what brings you to _this_ corner of the zoo? Not enough playmates for you in your usual hunting grounds?"

"Pickings have been a little weak since the spring." Deunan drawled, giving him her best sultry smile. "You know me. I'm easily bored just going after the sick and feeble. I want prey with a little fight left in it. More sporting that way."

"And so you come looking for ol' Sokak?" The cyborg protested with a hangdog expression as he hunched back over his drink. "Woe is me. I'm a good guy now. Ask Anyone! One hundred percent upstanding citizen, that's me. Don't even cross the street against the lights!"

"Uh huh." She grinned widely. "Oh relax, idiot, I've just clocked out after twenty-four hours of hell. The last thing I want at this particular moment is more running around. I've had one bitch of a day, and I've _earned_ a little heavy drinking, you know?"

Her grumpy confession got his immediate attention. Twisting in his chair to give her a considering stare instead of looking out at the city night or into the crowded room. "Rough day, huh? I'd heard some rumors. You know… through the grapevine. Something about that plume of smoke off the coast this morning. You saying you were mixed up in that, Tigress?"

"I'd be violating policy if I talked about it." She stated, winking for his benefit. The repeated nickname, implied that he'd been thinking about her in the time since they'd last crossed paths? It was weirdly close to the 'kitten' that Briareos occasionally slipped and still called her. Maybe that explained why it didn't irk her as much as pet-name usually did.

Deunan leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she encouraged him to stop thinking of her as a threat and start thinking about her cleavage instead. "But yeah, I wouldn't say it's unknown for me to indulge in a bit of _fishing_ from time to time." She smiled toothily. "All kitty cats like a bit of tuna, after all?"

"Point." The cyborg sniggered. "From what I saw on the news-feeds, this fish of yours did some biting of its own though."

Deunan made a face and skulled her drink waving at a waitress and shaking her empty glass. "Don't want to talk about it. Same again?" She turned to ask the girl as her empty was retrieved. "And one more for my well-polished-friend here, while you're at it. Whatever he's drinking."

Sokak toasted her with his half-empty glass. "Why that's very kind of you, tigress."

"Eh. Consider it bribery." She drawled, expecting, and getting a strange look for her comment. "For the company?" She added after a suitably long pause to make him squirm. "Hate drinking alone. Makes me look like a loser."

Torn between doubt and entertainment, Sokak's posture subtly shifted from paranoid to cautious interest as he mentally adapted his approach in response to her flirting. So long as she didn't go for her gun, she figured, she might totally trick the 'borg into thinking all she was looking for tonight was some cold liquor and a bed-warmer. Deunan smiled to herself as she methodically depleted her next glass, and hooked her fingers in the air for a third. Her budget would stretch for the modest binge, she figured, so long as she slowed down on this one. Besides, if Sokak _did_ cough up anything good, Lance would be obliged to pick up the tab.

Considering the semi-legal explosives expert across from her, she raised her eyebrow at his half-full brandy and the full glass still waiting for his attention. He wasn't even trying to compete with her on numbers so far. A pity, it'd have been easier to grill him if he was hammered. "Another for you? or are you set for now? It's on me, bright-eyes."

"Why not." The cyborg chuckled, gesturing that she was welcome to rack him up. Showing willing, when teased about it, he too knocked back his glass, shifting the empty to the edge of the table to claim his second. "Don't know that I can keep your pace though, blondie. You look like you mean business."

She pouted for his benefit, and then got the waitress to run them another order. While waiting for the girl to return, Deunan folded her arms in front of her, stretching out the tired muscled in her back. Leaning forward further, she pretended Sokak wasn't watching openly as she arched and flexed.

The pose was _meant_ to be eye-catching, but her back really did need the break. Way too much time hunched over computers, she decided, was not a smart move given how her bruised and beaten muscles tended to stiffen up painfully.

"Just laying in a foundation," She disagreed playfully. "If I get too hammered, my partner will read me riot when he finds me. Besides, last time I got shit-faced at a place like this? I ended up waking up the next morning with a guy whose name I didn't know."

It wasn't exactly a lie, merely an exaggeration. Deunan rubbed her chin, not having to pretend her embarrassment. Briareos had, of course, teased her about it mercilessly for months. But really, the fact that drunk as she still was after waking up from her nap – it could hardly be called a full night's sleep given how late they'd come home – that she remembered him well enough to _want_ to call him over and make out with him, fuzziness on his actual name or not, was pretty good in her opinion. Better than just belching and rolling over to ignore him for the morning, at least. He ought to have been grateful she hadn't woken up and puked on him. And of course she could never tease him about how drunk _he_ might have been, she sighed. Briareos sobered up in minutes once he decided he wanted to. Damned synthetic liver.

Stretching her arms again, this time over her head, Deunan cheered as their fresh drinks arrived. Deunan felt the alcohol kick in nicely by the time the girl had left, leaning all the way forward in order to rest her cheek against the cool surface of the polished tabletop. She wasn't close to her limit, but didn't mind pretending to be worse than she was, not with Sokak laughing at her antics. Having him think she was stoned was almost as good as getting him drunk himself.

The former mercenary sipped on his drink as he slouched a little to match her. "Don't you look comfortable. By all means, Tigress, don't let me interrupt your incipient drunken-debauchery. Hell, I'm rather looking forward to it! Are you one of those girls who starts taking off items of clothing as she heads under the table? I can't decide."

"Depends." She smirked up at him. "Mine? Or yours?"

That got a definite look of interest from her drinking companion. The cyborg across from her blinked slowly with all three eyes as he considered what she was implying. Before he could comment, however, Sokak paused, glass half way between table and mouth as he was distracted by something just behind her.

"If we're talking about whose clothing you'll be removing? The answer would be _mine_, hellcat." Briareos' voice, stern and yet filled with dark humor, caught her by surprise. Deunan jerked back to sit up properly but was stalled by the feel of his large hands sliding possessively over her shoulders. His fingers tickled against the bare skin of her neck as he staked his claim with word and touch. "What have I told you, girl, about taking your clothes off for other men when I'm not around?"

"Ta-not-ta." She joked in a hick-accent as she looked up at him, smiling. Letting the smile fall on Sokak as well, she felt secretly smug again at the way he was visibly wilting. It was _fun_ to pull the cyborg's chain. Briareos was too familiar with her flirtatious tactics to be an easy tease anymore, but Sokak had been well on his way to proposing that they take their conversation somewhere private when her tin-man had calmly strolled up and completely crushed his plans. Really, he couldn't have timed it better. Short of a bucket of ice-water to the cyborg's lap she couldn't have concocted a better ploy to make Sokak switch from suave to near-swallowing his own tongue. Briareos didn't see the need for explanation. He simply settled into the chair next to hers as if his joining the table was a fore-gone conclusion. Leaning sideways and sliding a hand under her chin, he deftly guided her into a very public, and very thorough kiss.

"Hi there." She teased on coming up for air. In-character or not, the display of effection was enough to make her cheeks hot with pleasure. That was twice in the past day, she mused as she tasted her lips, that he'd been so openly affectionate with her. It was nice, if more than a little unexpected. Looking up at him she tried to read his intention without breaking character herself, but it was no use. He merely snorted softly at her reaction, as if knowing full well that he could knock her for a loop with a kiss, and ignored her in favor of studying the cyborg sitting across from them. He _did_ hook his arm over her shoulder however, tucking her against his side in a casual grip. Deunan took the invitation to snuggle at face value, curling against him with a happy noise.

"Yo." The former mercenary greeted her partner gamely enough. Raising the hand not holding his drink he offered Briareos a casual wave. She had to give him that, he was man enough to not flinch when caught flirting with another guy's girl. "Was wondering when you'd put in an appearance. I don't normally see your lady-friend here out and about without you lurking somewhere nearby."

"She gets into too much trouble when I let her roam off on her own." Briareos agreed dryly. "Pain in my ass, honestly." Looking down as he scolded her, he slid his hand along her side to squeeze her thigh, implying that any pains he suffered on her behalf were well compensated afterward. Deunan smirked up at him, as she gave his chest an affectionate slap. He goosed her again for her efforts, making her squeak girlishly. Maybe they were laying it on a little too thick, she mused, but it was too fun not to.

Sokak merely snorted and took another sip off his drink, watching the two of them with tired amusement. "I'm a little confused though…" Leaning back in his chair he fixed his dominant eyes on Briareos. "You're saying, you're fine with your woman stripping down to nothing and dancing drunk on the tabletops here for me and everyone to see? It sounded almost like you were fine with it..." Laughing at his own joke he gestured around the room to the mostly male potential-audience.

"The girl has a good looking body. No reason to hide it if she doesn't want to." Briareos shrugged, seemingly bored by the question. "I don't care if other men enjoy the sight of her having a good time. I only get jealous when it comes to _touching_. That? I've got dibs on. These sad bastards and barflies can find their _own_ bed warmers for the night, this one's mine." He paused as a pair of drinks arrived, both dropped infront of him. Deunan squirmed just loose enough from his grip to steal a sip off of the taller one. Briareos humored her, helping himself to the other. Sokak frowned, looking like he was trying to decide whether he was offended or not.

"Not that _you_ are sad, of course, Sokak. I'm talking about _them_." He gestured to the same crowd that the cyborg had moments before, belatedly offering placation to their companion. The delay, like the threat, was meant to put the cyborg off balance again.

Deunan had to hide her smile at how well Briareos was picking up the thread of her initial game and running with it. Between the two of them, the former mercenary would have to work hard to keep his smooth-tongued façade intact. It would make it easier to tell when he was lying, when the time came to get some real information out of him. Still, there was a chance that her tin-man would push the 'borg too far and he'd grump off too soon. Deunan made note to adjust her flirtation accordingly, willing to keep up her ploys as needed to keep Sokak interested enough to stay at the table.

"How kind." The mercenary replied dryly. "You're a genuine softie at heart, aren't you."

"I wouldn't go that far." Briareos agreed in the same milder tone. "How you been, anyway. I'd heard you'd been in some kind of accident. You staying out of trouble?"

The three eyed cyborg rolled two of them. "What are you, my parole officer?"

"Don't kid yourself." Her partner petted her back and arm as he relaxed into his chair. Giving the other cyborg a stern look he set his glass down on the table. "Compared to me? Your current warden is a goddamned Buddha of patience and mercy. If I was the one riding you? And heard about you getting up to mischief? You'd better believe I'd have two-out-of-three of those eyes out of your head and crushed between my fingers before you even knew I was onto you."

Briareos fished an ice cube out of his drink, held it up, and pulverized it between two fingers without flamboyance. It was simple and undeniable show of brute strength. Crumbs of shattered ice flew in every direction, even as far as the next table, causing people nearby to blink and pat at themselves in reaction to the sudden cold. Her partner's 'party trick' was particularly ominous when done in contrast to his no-nonsense tone. Sure Sokak might replicate it pretty easily, full-body as he was too, but it would take real balls, Deunan figured, to try it. And it wouldn't be nearly so intimidating the second time.

"Hey! That's really cold!" Deunan groused in girlish protest as she dusted quite a bit of the frosty fragments off of her shirt and hair. She made more of a fuss than she needed to, forcing Briareos to look at her, along with drawing attention from several barflies, not above playing for a bit of comedy in order to deflect some of the abrupt tension away from Sokak. "You dick. Warn me before you go and do something stupid like that!"

Briareos humored her by running one of his own hands over her hair as she settled grumpily back against his side, "Don't hiss at me, kitten, you weren't hurt in the least."

"Still _cold_ though." She offered him a mock-pout. "Gonna make it up to me?"

"Consider it punishment for wasting your money buying this conman drinks." He disagreed. Turning back to Sokak again, he tilted his head, continuing their conversation in a slightly more conciliatory tone. "Seriously. I don't make a habit of picking up the tab for guys that I'll just be obliged to run down and beat the shit out of later. You and those thug-friends of yours keeping your noses clean? Or whatever you all have that passes for one?"

"Yeah. Yeah." The cyborg waved a hand in the air in annoyance, "Leave off, _dad_. Plenty of other tables around if you're too good for me. She picked _my_ table after all, not the other way round."

Deunan made a rude noise at her partner, pretending to take Sokak's side. "Leave off already, baby. It's not like we're recruiting him, it's just a few drinks." Turning back to the mercenary, she toasted him with her 'borrowed' glass. "Besides those chumps aren't all bad-eggs, right? How's that Nisui guy, anyway? He holding up well? I always liked him more than your other loser friends. He seemed... really sweet."

Sokak shook his head in chagrin, getting her innuendo easily enough. "You'd eat him alive, Tigress, you leave Nisui alone. He wouldn't know _what_ to do with a woman like you. Hell I'm not even sure if he knows properly what to do with a woman in general."

"Ooooh I do love the unspoiled ones, especially." Deunan cooed playfully, letting her smile grow more predatory. "So innocent... So willing to learn... so much fun to tease."

"Bad girl." Briareos chuckled, allowing her flirting even as he kept a possessive hand on her waist. "You know you play too rough for beginners. Hard for them to learn anything when you've got them so wrung out they can't remember their own names for a day afterward. You leave the kid alone."

"Oh, like I should leave _you_ alone with that tarted-up piece of ass you were drooling over today? She couldn't have been more than eighteen!" She turned conspiratorially to Sokak with a sigh. "I leave him alone for _five_ minutes, I tell you, and he was practically humping some sex-bot-teenager's leg in the middle of the street. I mean, really. What is it with you guys? Do they crank your libido up to 'eleven' automatically when they encase you in plating? Or is it just a common side effect?"

"Probably the later." The explosives expert agreed cheerfully, "But if it was an optional procedure after the fact? It'd likely be a very popular one!" He turned to Briareos with a speculative look, "I confess I can't quite picture _this_ guy ever losing his cool over a woman, Tigress, especially given what he's got waiting for him at home... right?"

"Seriously." She drawled in mock-annoyance. "But don't let his stoic looks fool you. He's as much of a horn-dog as any of you, once the uniform comes off."

"Hey now, there was no way that woman was under twenty. And besides, once you saw what I did, you were happy to look too..." Her cyborg sipped at his drink, unrepentant at his made-up offense. "She was _smoking_ hot, Sokak. Blonde hair down her back, legs that went all the way up... Very fine, kit wise, and she knew how to wear it too."

"Sounds like my kind of girl." The three-eyed cyborg agreed cheerfully, leaning in to hear more of the gossip. "So did you get her name? Or skip right to the lightening-round?"

"If it wasn't for the other woman with her? I'd definitely have gone over to say hello. As it was, I was sorely tempted to send the girl here to do the introductions as a bit of an icebreaker. If I'd gone myself I'd have probably gotten my ass royally chewed on by her frigid looking lady-friend." Briareos shook his head as if sorry for the loss of opportunity. "The sex-kitten was there one minute and gone the next. Sounded like she got a righteous telling-off from her 'mother' and then had to scoot back to work. That lady was a proverbial dragon, a cyborg too. Hell maybe it was her boss, it's impossible to say."

"Didn't you snap that photo, on the off chance you could run a background check and find her?" Deunan laughed merrily, feeding him the cues she figured would get them to their goal the fastest. "God you're so pathetic."

"Shut up, like I've never seen you haul a good-looking guy out of his vehicle for questioning when in reality all you wanted was to check out his ass." Briareos growled back. "Don't you dare play victim with me, hellcat, we're both cut from the same cloth here, and we both know it. You telling me you wouldn't have enjoyed watching if I'd gotten a pair of handcuffs on that girl?

"As the female officer on the scene, I'd have been the one officially responsible for any pat-downs." She disagreed with a smirk. "So really, _you_ would have been the one obliged to watch. If you asked nicely, I'd have been _extra_ thorough, just for you. Still, the drool? Totally unprofessional. Besides, they both had those 'cat eye' mods, and I think those are kinda tacky, don't you? Definitely trying too hard, in my book."

"They looked good on her." He protested mildly. "No so much on the mother, mind you. But on her? Very nice."

Sokak raised his hands to interrupt their fight, grinning hugely. "Ok. Now I _have_ to see this photo. You've got me dying of curiosity here. You got a picture of this delicious dish? Give it up. I may not be 'ESWAT-intelligence' levels of all-knowing here, but I believe I'm eminently qualified to rate the hotness of any cybernetic entree that walks the street of our fair city. Besides, I may have met her! I... well... I meet a lot of people, you know, from being such a sociable guy."

"Heh." Briareos chuckled. "Why am I not surprised."

Reaching into his pocket, he made a show of pulling out the photo and looking at it a moment himself before laying it on the table for general inspection. Briareos faked regret as he showed their paltry-evidence, not giving away in word or gesture that getting Sokak's unsuspecting opinion on the image had been their only real goal for the evening. "Hate to break it to you, Sokak, but this isn't the dish. It's just her 'mother', or whoever she was. Not anywhere near as much of looker, but still, similar enough that I have to guess they're at least fabricated by the same facility..."

Sokak leaned closer to see for himself, twisting the image around so he could inspect it right-way-up. "Well well well... Small world. That _does_ seem to be a familiar face. And the other woman looked like her? Just younger? Less bitter? And much-much hotter?"

"Yeah. By like a factor of 50." Briareos nodded, leaning in as if eager for any gossip. "After-market mods or not, that was one fine looking girl. Not that I don't already have a good looking woman of my own, at the moment."

He looked to the side as if to gauge how pissed she was at his flattering commentary of someone else. And he claimed that he couldn't act? She nearly wanted to laugh in his face at the perfect balance of misogynist-ego and pussy-whipped cautiousness he was emoting. Especially given his earlier, less than complementary critique of the exact same girl.

"For a woman like _her_?" Deunan wasn't above hamming it up for Sokak's benefit, grinning as she leaned against her man in a blatantly suggestive pose, "Even _I_ would consider switching-teams for a night. Her mom there? Not so much. Scary bitch."

"Mom?" Sokak laughed in amusement at her reaction, all concerns about flirting with her in front of her partner apparently allayed by their bantering. "If that's who I think it is, she'd tear your face off for a comment like that. Deinoa is her _sister_, Tigress. And the woman you're both panting after is probably named, Enyo. If it's her? I can vouch, from personal experience, that she is one _hell_ of a good time."

He cocked his head considering both of them carefully. "You know what... I bet she'd totally take you up on a three-way, if that's what you're in the market for. Hell, if I set up the introduction for you, would you consider going four-ways? They say sharing is caring, Tigress. Given how much fun we've had tonight...? I'd be all for taking our new found friendship to a new level."

Deunan looked to Briareos and raised her eyebrow, daring him to break 'character' and balk at the offer. She could feel his leg tense where it was pressed against hers under the table, but he gave no other outward sign.

"So long as I get to watch?" He suggested in a low rumble, matching her earlier teasing with equal measure of his own. "I could see a way to make that work... Of course, if you look like you're enjoying yourself too much, girl, I'll take it out of your hide later."

"Mmmm, I'm counting on it." She purred right back, liking his show of dominance, pretended though it was. Sleeping with Sokak was so far into the realm of fantasy that she had a hard time keeping herself from laughing, but the idea of threatening Briareos with it, and having him lay down the law later? In the privacy of their own apartment? There was definitely potential to be had there.

"Christ, are all you ESWAT types sadomasochists? Really?" The cyborg sitting across from them shook his head in mock-shame. "I mean, I know that's what everyone says, and with you two especially, I can't say I'm all that surprised... But still, if all I'm going to get out of this is a beating from the pair of you, I can get that with my pants still on, you know? Maybe I'll just sit back and watch while you three have fun."

"Suit yourself." Briareos agreed blandly, not taking his eyes off her. Deunan wondered how much of the heat in his stare was faked for Sokak's benefit. Ridiculous play-acting or not, she was feeling a little warm under the collar herself.

Deliberately looking away to get a sip of her drink, she returned to studying Sokak instead, willing her libido to behave itself. "So... how do we meet this Enyo chick? And how do we do it in a way as to avoid her sour-grapes-sister?"

"No idea, honestly." The three eyed cyborg mused, lounging back in his chair. "Didn't even realize she was in town, and believe me, if I had... well, I'd be inviting you back to _my_ place, if introductions were to be made... Although now I think of it, a hotel would definitely be safer. Girl's got a temper on her, despite that sweet face." He looked at them, weighing something in his mind. "Where'd you say you saw her again?"

Briareos shrugged, looking to her for guidance. "Near that trucking firm, wasn't it? We were just coming back from that inquiry over by..."

"Hobishi Limited. Blue Sector, off the coastal highway." She supplied pithily, seeing no reason to not provide the random trivia. It was unlikely to help Sokak any, given that the girl had probably only been working there for the day of the heist. She suspected that when someone went to interview the managers tomorrow, they'd discover that she'd been skipping work ever since. "She was chatting up the other one, with you ogling her ass, when I got off the phone. Then she bolted off and you were stuck with calling in a request for a picture of the sister instead." She smirked at his fake-hangdog slouch. "Too slow, handsome. You missed your chance."

Sokak laughed at their byplay again, looking as though he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Tough-luck, Bunny-ears. You'll have to move faster next time. You telling me you don't have direct access to the surveillance satellites?" His tone was suddenly doubtful. "You've got one of those freakish Hecatonchires-AIs plugged into your brain-stem, don't you? My friend Fazel was bitching about it no end back when he first ran into you..."

Deunan stiffened slightly, knowing that Sokak was not nearly as stupid as he played at being. Had they just slipped up? Thinking back to the tense confrontation during Benadetti, where one of Sokak's teammates had demanded Briareos surrender his AI in exchange for the lives of the 'hostages' in the basement, she wondered just what had been 'common knowledge' at that point, and what had died with the psycho-cyborg. Sokak had been in another part of the house entirely when the threat, and quick retaliation had taken place, but still. If one of his old team had recognized Briareos's kit, why not the others? That Briareos was a Hecatonchires-assisted cyborg wasn't exactly common knowledge by strangers on the street.

Her partner covered for her momentary tension with seemingly bored annoyance. "Yeah, well, that's _why_ I don't get satellite access, isn't it." He shrugged. "They're afraid, that if I do start talking directly to the orbital systems, they'll never be able to figure out a way to make me stop again, should they want to deny access."

"Heh. Yeah I can see that." Sokak shrugged as well, seeming to buy the excuse readily enough. "For all that this place is all lovey-dovey on the outside, there's a good thick vein of paranoia just below the surface."

"They trust me enough to take down the likes of you." Briareos agreed, "But not enough to give me access to anything that might compromise _their_ interests, if you know what I'm saying."

"And you're such a boyscout that, what, you just let them dictate your life for you?" The freelancer wasn't above baiting a fellow cyborg, although there didn't seem to be much venom behind the remark.

"Let's just say... So far... they've made it worth my time to be 'a good boy'." Her partner's tone made it clear to everyone that his interest in remaining 'good' was entirely negotiable.

Deunan snickered a little, adding her own layer of indifference to his attitude. "You haven't been all _that_ good, baby. I can think of a few things we've done lately that have definitely been... naughty."

"Good enough to keep _them_ off my back." He clarified, hooking an arm back around her to rest his hand suggestively against her thigh. "Not like _we_ asked to come here. We we're god-damned shanghai'ed, almost as bad as this guy."

"Didn't they ask _us_?" She disagreed with mock-innocence. "I thought they did. They sent that tank especially for us, right? Of course, we sent it home in pieces… but that was all just a big misunderstanding."

"Hmmm, you're right. That does sound familiar." Sokak leaned forward again, interested. "I didn't realize my recruitment method for this town was so common!"

Deunan narrowed her eyes in annoyance for his benefit. "Don't get us wrong, Sokak, unlike your crew? _We_ are not two-bit-thugs. Don't ever mistake us for being on your level."

"He's a freelancer, Deunan. It's not exactly the same thing." Briareos corrected her mildly, as if he'd heard the argument many times before. "He was paid _by_ criminals for his services, just like any other employee, the fact that they used his skills for bad things..."

"Whatever." She waved him off as if equally bored by a long-standing argument. "The higher-ups let those idiots stay in the city, so I am obliged to assume the brass knows what they're doing... I just want to make it clear to him that _we_ are not … 'freelancers'..."

"Shame really." Briareos mused aloud. "The pay is better."

"So very true." Sokak smirked, relaxed again by their back-and-forth. "Well well... it's late, and I must say... it's been a pleasure, Officer Tigress, Officer Bunny. What do you say we do this again sometime? I could get used to someone else picking up my tab, that's for sure."

"Wait a sec. What about this woman, Enyo." Briareos switched from nodding affably to suddenly urgent. "You're going to round her up for us, right? Arrange a nice informal-hello? I mean, _I_ can run her down myself, but then she'll think that we just want to arrest her or something..."

"Oh like you wouldn't _love_ to strip search her." Deunan teased wickedly, easing off her pretended pride as she was petted back into a more cheerful mood.

Her partner huffed at her to get her to stop and then turned back to Sokak. "Seriously. If you find her, and think she might be amenable, dinner's on us. Getting a chance to sample a dish like that would be the most interesting thing that's happened to me since arriving in this city." Looking down, he squeezed her thigh in playful supplication, "Especially if it's a two for one deal..."

"Turn about is fair play, you know..." She reminded him in mock-threat, even as she arched against him. Sokak would probably think they were a pair of nymphos after this, but what the hell, if it worked, she'd take the gossip with a smile.

"If I do set something like that up, the pair of you will owe me one hell of a favor some day, you know that right?" The former SAS cyborg smirked knowingly, eyes sliding lecherously over her legs as he stood next to the table.

"More than just your once-in-a-lifetime chance to tap this prime piece?" Briareos squeezed her again, both offering-bribe and threatening Sokak with his mild question. "Believe me, Tigress here is worth a little work on your part. I don't exactly share her with just anyone."

"Only when you're looking to trade up to something better." She swatted his shoulder, as if pissed at his desire for Enyo when he was already boasting of having a good thing.

"Hey now, variety is the spice of life, and all that." He disagreed, playing at trying to mollify her. "We both know any fooling around with her would be just a fling."

"I'll let you two kids sort it out amongst yourselves." Sokak raised his hands in self defense. "But tell you what. If I bump into her... Heh heh. Bump. I kill myself. _If_ I do, and she seems interested in having a good time with some new friends... I'll be in touch, alright?" Looking down at Deunan, he smirked playfully. "You still have that eye-patch of yours from the last time I saw you, right?"

She laughed out loud at the implication that the cyborg had found her 'pirate' look attractive. Sure the eye-wound had been obnoxious as hell at the time, but the remaining patches did seem like great costume accessories. "Naturally!" She winked up at him as she snuggled against Briareos. "I've even got a leather corset, if that's your thing. Will we be 'swabbing the deck', do you think?

"God, Tigress," the cyborg threw his head back and laughed. "I like your style. You're a mad, _bad_ bitch of a woman, but I definitely like it. How the hell did you ever end up with a boring hard-ass like this guy?"

"Well you got it in one, now didn't you?" She teased back. Seeing him blink in confusion, she leaned towards him with a smirk. "He's always _hard_. And he has a great _ass_."

Briareos snorted in amusement and waved the cyborg away. Both of them pretending to be interested in their drinks and each other until Sokak was out the door. Even then, he said nothing, pulling her back to his side to nuzzle her neck as he pushed his glass away. "We done here? Back to the car?"

"Sure." She rubbed his chest through his shirt, getting his meaning just fine. They'd continue the charade until they got home on the off chance that their criminally inclined drinking buddy got it in his head to be paranoid after the fact and wanted to eavesdrop.

"We need to drop the car off, right?" She stood up, sweeping the wrinkles from her shirt and skirt. They couldn't exactly go straight home, not if they were going to be tailed by _another_ cyborg. Two in twenty-four hours... at least Sokak was a known face to Gaia's surveillance programs.

"Maybe it can wait." Briareos followed her out. "I'll make a few calls." And by that, she knew he meant that he'd be watching from the ever present satellites as she drove, seeing where Sokak wandered off to.

Five exits down the highway, her cyborg visibly relaxed in the passenger's seat next to her. "We're good. He's home and chatting up his buddies. Probably asking any of _them_ if they knew this Enyo chick was in town."

"We should get watchers on all of them for the next few days." Deunan mused aloud, "On the off chance that he recruits them for help in running her down. Part of the old-boy network that they are, they probably know her and her 'sister' too."

"Good idea." He nodded, "I'll get their parole guys on board with it. I got permission to tap Sokak's communication line already, might as well complete the set and get'em all. I'll pass both names up the chain a bit higher, see if they have aliases known to Interpol or any other government agencies."

"Sweet." Deunan smiled at the rare bit of good news on which to end the day. "So... home?"

"Sure." He agreed mildly. "I'd say we've earned a few hours of sleep before reporting back in."

"Just sleep?" She teased him. "After all that big talk back there?"

Briareos blinked at her. " You honestly telling me you have _any_ energy left after staying on your feet over twenty-three hours straight today, girl?"

"What can I say, handsome." She grinned to herself as she drove. "You were very convincing..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Promethean Blood - ch 4 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

It was difficult. It was always difficult, he found, after a rough day on the squad, to manage to fully get his head around the idea of 'home' at the end of the shift. Briareos sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, not bothering to undress immediately as he simply listened to the normal sounds of Deunan humming to herself in the bathroom as she completed her usual nighttime preparations. Uniform in the hamper, the rough fabric sliding into the drawstring sack she hung on the door for just such things. The various clicks and thumps of brushes and tubes and bottles as she fussed at the sink, the inevitable soft rain of the shower head, pitches changing as she stepped beneath the spray. He shifted a little, half motivated to get up and join her, whether or not he actually needed the shower, just for the chance to further immerse himself in the safe sounds and scents.

The nap he'd managed to snag earlier hadn't left him particularly rested. Although god knew he'd needed it, he rubbed his face, chagrined at the knowledge that his mood had not been good for most of the day. Poor Deunan, he sighed, she'd really taken it on the chin, running interference for him as she had for the last twelve hours. He owed her something nice in apology. He'd think about it when he had more than two braincells left to rub together.

Getting as far as the shower wasn't happening, he decided, but at least he could stop sitting like a chump. Drinking after the day – days? - they'd had? Probably not the smartest idea. They'd both be rough tomorrow. He reached a thought out to nudge his personal calendar tool that cross-linked with the ESWAT database, checking their morning schedule. Sure enough, they were still slated for AM training as soon as they walked in the door. All day too, from the look of it, unless they got pulled off onto another case. Or the bullshit from today came back to haunt them further. He rubbed his face again and began the chore of stripping out of his uniform and checking himself for any further damage from their various unwanted adventures. A lot of new scratches, a few dents, Briareos took inventory with a frustrated sigh. At least there was no obvious mechanical faults turning up on his diagnostic. That was the last thing he needed. Funny how people always told him how 'awesome' it must be, to be him. They never saw the never ending pile of bills. Bruised humans healed. Dented cyborgs either learned to live with it, or paid for new panels.

The shower shut off, Deunan's humming audible again as she padded around, muffled during the few minutes she toweled her hair. He looked over at the bathroom as the door opened. Noting that she'd opted for one of his t-shirts rather than any of her own clothes. A gesture of solidarity? Was she still second guessing his mood? His girl knew perfectly well how 'cute' she looked when she did shit like wear his clothes. Normally, the sight of her, compelled to roll the sleeves of his _t-shirt_ in order to wear it at a short sleeved dress, made him smile. Briareos wordlessly watched as she navigated around the room, haphazardly tidying before she turned off the lights. She hadn't rolled the sleeves this time, leaving the fabric covering everything to midway down her fore-arm when she wasn't actively pushing it back. The wide collar practically fell off her shoulders it was so loose around her slim torso. The problem, he supposed, with her choice of clothing, was that it made her look even smaller than she already was. Not just petite, but almost childlike as she puttered out into the hall to turn off the lights there as well.

"Hey." Deunan paused, coming back into their room. "You alright?"

"Yeah." He sighed, reaching sideways to flip back the blankets in open invitation for her to get in bed.

"'Cuz you don't look alright." She crossed over to his side of the bed instead, standing in front of him with a worried frown. "C'mon, big guy. It's been a shit day. You've earned a sleep. I've earned a sleep. So stop _thinking_ for a few hours and just let it go, alright?"

"Easier said than done." He admitted. Still, he let him self be guided down to the mattress by her gentle push. Settling against the pillows, Briareos lifted his hands to catch her waist, gathering the loose cotton to her skin as he supported her ambition of climbing over him.

"Someone needs some help relaxing, huh?" Deunan offered him a playful smirk as she opted to simply sit on his stomach rather than continue her clamber to her usual side of the bed. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his lips, her deft hands petting the metal skin of his arms and shoulders. For a moment he allowed the caresses, needing the feel of her, warm and real, soft and familiar to ground him in the reality of being safe at home once more.

It wasn't going to be a good night. Too much stress, too much excitement during the day, too many things that could have gone wrong. Briareos grimly wondered if it was even worth laying down. Probably he'd spend the next several hours staring at the ceiling as his subconscious rehashed every possible what-if from the past twenty-four hours while he listened to his girl sleep. Still, Deunan got anxious when he didn't at least start the night with her. _She_ slept better with him nearby, usually, and undoubtedly she needed it more. He exhaled slowly, trying to relax into the moment for her sake. Having her stressing over _his_ stress was something he wasn't above a little subterfuge to avoid. Tilting his face, Briareos kissed her back, playing along with her intention of 'cheering him up'. A minor shift while she was distracted however, and he easily got her cuddled against his side.

"You, hellcat, need to sleep. You'll look like a badger tomorrow if you don't." He chastised gently as she pouted up at him.

"Spoil sport." She declared, worming her hands between them to tease his stomach. "A quickie then. Something to give you good dreams..."

Leaning down to kiss his girl's cheek when she might have teased him further, he silently weighed going along with her initial plan for the night against the more rational goal of encouraging her to sleep. Rationality won. Briareos nuzzled her cheek and hair until his girl returned his playful gesture with a laugh. Gradually he leaned back, encouraging her to follow, and pet her back and shoulders as she made herself comfortable. Rather than continue their game, he changed his rhythm to a slower caress, tricking her into a sleepy state of mind. "How's your back holding up...?Any sore spots that your long suffering partner can rub for you before you go being all athletic tonight?"

True to form, Deunan curled against him, near boneless at the offered indulgence. "A few. God that feels nice..." She rested her head on his chest as she found her way to her usual sprawl, eyes already drifting closed as her exhaustion caught up with her. "...just a few minutes of this huh? A girl could get spoiled..."

He ran a gentle hand over her shirt, soothing her further into a sleepy state of mind. Sadly, the more relaxed she became, the more he was reminded of all the reasons why he _couldn't_ be similarly calm. Hiked up to her shoulder with her sprawl, the t-shirt exposed what he'd been afraid of, dark mottled bruises stained her skin from where she'd undoubtedly bounced hard off the bulkhead of the ship. Briareos waited until his girl's breathing slowed into its usual pattern before daring a gentle finger to nudge the fabric back further, grimly impressed by the marks on her shoulder and down her back where the loose shirt allowed him to easily check.

He should have demanded that he be allowed to look her over earlier, he scolded himself. Her insistence that she was 'fine' was all well and good, but how _often_ had he heard her say that lately? Briareos hissed softly and pulled the fabric back up against her skin before she woke from the chill. Deunan made him crazy when she pulled shit like this. It was never lying, not exactly. Half the time he swore that she simply didn't notice, or care, how hurt she was while the adrenaline was still flowing. She'd happily ignore it all right until the moment that she dropped, or finally had down-time enough to stiffen up.

Had Deunan even the sense to get checked over by medical? Had she used the damned ointment? Briareos tested the easier to reach portion of skin with a tentative finger tip, finding it grease-free. She hadn't reapplied anything after the shower, at any rate. The girl was a masochist. The urge to wake her up and drag her to at least the HQ clinic, if not the ER, was strong. He weighed it against the knowledge that she needed the sleep just as much as the check-up. Besides, it had been hours since the wreck, and they'd been running around like mad men – and women – all day. Surely if it hurt bad enough, she'd have done something about it by lunch, right? In the morning, he promised himself, he'd make sure she went to the clinic for a proper once over, or twice over, if need be. Even if it meant pinching her by the ear and dragging her.

Doubly careful, in light of her bruises, he lay back and settled his hand on her hip, hoping she'd make some sign of he was inadvertently pinching further injuries with the weight of his fingers. Deunan merely sighed in sleepy contentment, functionally dead to the world as she slept. He huffed softly at her. As far a she was concerned? There was no reason for fitful sleep. She was snug at home, clean, warm, curled up on her favorite metal-plated 'pillow'. Of course she was having good dreams. He stared up at the ceiling, wishing his own needs were so simple.

He'd get up in an hour. Briareos promised himself. If he couldn't sleep, he'd sneak out of bed in an hour and do something else. Daub his girl's bruises while _she_ slept maybe. Read a book. Watch whatever old movie was playing on the classic cinema network. Briareos shuttered his lenses, willing himself to at least pretend to rest. His AI helped as best it could, muting his audio pickups to the point that the city beyond their window was non-existent, detaching from all but the emergency priority frequencies of the ESWAT communication up-link. He exhaled softly as his world narrowed to merely what he could hear in close proximity and feel against his skin. Deunan's heart beat lulled him, as it always did. He turned his face towards her, letting her hair tickle his chin as he inhaled her scent. Maybe sleep wouldn't be so long in coming after all.

* * *

The ship was sinking. Briareos lunged from his perch atop the bridge with the first concussive explosion beneath the deck. Diving for the open hatch to see what was wrong, he was blocked by the frantic scramble of men, officers and criminals alike as they were bolting _out_ of the ship. Cries of 'we're sinking' and 'bomb' blended with other chaotic babble around him leaving him wondering if anyone was even listening as he hammered out alert codes and shouted orders to marshal some semblance of a coherent evacuation. Water erupted over the feet and knees of his exosuit, white and frothy as it spilled out of the guts of the ship and across the deck.

"Where's 109?" He caught one of the frantic evacuees by the collar as the man rushed by. "Where's the lieutenant who was with you?" The blank look he got in reply made him want to shake the man. "The _woman_, god damn you. Where is she?"

"Below somewhere!" The officer shrugged loose and bolted leaving him empty handed. The ship groaned and began to tilt, taking on water frighteningly fast. He was no seaman, but he could guess as well as the next person that the vessel was critically damaged. Pushing into the narrow confines of the hall below deck, he cursed immediately concluding that even without his second layer of armor, he just wasn't going to _fit_.

"Deunan?!" He hailed on their private channel. The static he got in response made him more anxious by the second. Smoke was filling the precious little of the cabin not already waist deep in water. Probably there were air pockets left around the bulkheads, but the ship was definitely sinking. The hole the blast had made must have been god-awful large. "109? Answer me damn it!"

Compelled to grab the door frame as the boat tilted further, Briareos struggled up to the deck again, obliged to engage his Hermes system instead of walking across the steeply sloped floor and risking simply sliding into the sea himself.

"109! 109!" He tried again, wondering if he could hear her voice beneath the noise. Half jumping, half floating, he plunged into the sea next to the foundering ship, catching hold of randomly struggling officers as he passed and physically pushing them upwards towards the surface in a bid to give them momentum in the right direction. There was going to be hell to pay for the wreck, he thought dazedly as he sank too. He didn't have time to care, not until he was certain his girl was alright. He let his hands brush along the hull to carry any sound within along his arms and to his ears, all senses tuned for signs of life.

"Bri?" Her voice was the barest whisper. "Br-" Deunan abruptly choked and coughed wetly, making his blood run cold. Telemetry told him to go left, he jetted through the water.

"Hold on, girl." He insisted, blinded momentarily by the bubbles foaming free from the cracked hull. Each abortive breath on the other end of the line reminded him that seconds were passing that she just _didn't_ have.

Why hadn't he kitted everyone with a spare breather? He wondered abstractly as he found the approximate point closest to where Deunan was in the ship. He slapped his palms against the unblemished section of metal, cursing the lack of easy access. Why hadn't he at least compelled _her_ to wear one? He _knew_ she was crap at holding her breath under water. She always had been. Stupidly, he'd assumed that the smugglers wouldn't be dumb enough to sink themselves to avoid capture. He'd _assumed_ that she'd stay safely encased in her exo.

Her combat armor had to be breached. Beneath the sound of her increasingly panicked gasps he could _hear the water gurgling. "Deunan, I'm almost there..."

He slapped the plastic explosive the the side of the hull, praying that she wasn't pressed directly against the blast zone. It was a risk he'd have to take. He laid in only the minimum amount of charge. Enough to bend the plates without imploding the chamber beyond. "I'm blasting my way in..."

More bubbles and an eruption of super heated water followed as the ship peeled inwards like a sardine can. Briareos fought against the current, first pulled and then pushed by the new current flowing through the wreck. He hadn't used enough. The hole wasn't big enough. Able to get his head and one arm through, he peered desperately into the darkness within, seeing nothing but metal and cable. "Deunan? Where are you?!"

Pulling back he used his exo's strength in tandem with his own, wrenching at the crumpled steel in a desperate bid to peel it back further, make just a little more room. This time he could get in far enough to fit one of his exo's extendible scopes in as well, pivoting it in a full circle as he searched for his partner. At last he spotted her, pinned against the inner wall of the sinking ship by a broken ladder and pile of torn pipes. By the glow of the water-impervious safety lighting, he could just make out her wide eyed stare as she reached for him one handed- her visor half filled with water.

"No." He struggled in increasing panic. She was holding her breath, both nose and mouth covered as she struggled to free herself. "No! Deunan!"

Air escaped her suit in a steady stream of bubbles, rising upwards within the tilted darkness as they fell together towards the seafloor. His displays flashed red as they crossed the 60 meter mark. He wasn't equipped for deep diving he knew, but the worry was secondary to the fact that she couldn't breathe at all. Puling back he scrabbled desperately at his hole to make it larger still. Abandoning his exo might work, he knew, but without it he'd sink like a rock. There'd be no way to swim to her. The only option was more PE. He fumbled for it, and to his horror, _dropped_ the fuse chip just as he was setting it into place. A rogue current in the water caught the little electronic device, and whipped it away from his grabbing fingers, sparkling slightly as it sank out of sight.

There wasn't another one. There wasn't the time to rig a fake with his radio. His radio connection to Deunan cut out abruptly as her suit's power gave out. He floated in uncanny silence, as the water grew increasingly dark around him. Still clinging to the side of the wreck, riding its downward pull he wondered that he was the last living thing to be found aboard. Stunned, he wondered if he really was still alive. He looked up at the torn hull as it fell beside him feeling as if he too had just been unexpectedly dealt a deathblow. "Deunan...?"

Briareos awoke with a jolt, frustrated cry of disbelief only a gasp away from being verbal instead of just echoing in his head. He blinked at the dark familiar lines of their bedroom ceiling, wrestling with his AI as it tried to respond to his sudden surge of adrenaline and raw horror by cycling his cybernetic systems up to high alert. 'False alarm,' he chided it silently wishing it was clever enough that instead of just reacting to his nightmares it could fucking _stop_ him from having them in the first place.

"God damn." He panted as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal. "God. Fucking. Damn it."

Even knowing where it had come from, and why, he cursed the phantom memories of what might have been. He did not _need_ this shit right now. Bad enough he was still prone to having dreams of what-ifs from years ago, did his subconscious _have_ to give him the 24 hour rehash as well? He raised the hand not instinctively clutching his girl to rub his forehead tiredly, feeling more exhausted than before he'd closed his eyes.

Deunan shifted against him, mumbling sleepily as she reacted to his wakefulness. Too tired to open her eyes, she tightened her fingers against his shirt as she yawned slowly. "Bri... you 'wake?"

"Go back to sleep, girl." He sighed softly, resigned to his stupidity. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder as she settled contentedly at his side. Running his hand lightly over her hair and neck he lulled her back to her previous napping. The bed was warm, and his girl was clinging comfortingly to his side. Briareos tried to will himself to just forget, forget and let the dream go. She was alive, he was alive, neither of them had drowned. So why did the dream feel more real to him than the reality?

He rubbed his head again, morbidly amused, as he often was, at his brain's stubborn insistence on worst-case scenarios. Even after over a decade of 'good times', his inner pessimist couldn't just acknowledge the fact that everything he touched wasn't turning to shit at the first opportunity. Part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Really, he had over ten years now of imbalanced karma, he reminded himself. He'd been riding Deunan's wave of luck for years now. When the tide turned at last, the ensuing disaster would be truly epic.

Checking his internal clock, he huffed again in dark amusement. Half an hour. That was as much 'sleep' as he'd managed to get. It wasn't a record, but it was hardly brag worthy either. Deunan mumbled again, cuddling closer as she dreamed of who-knew-what. Briareos let his hand come to rest against her hair, finding it too hard to move from their bed. Resigned to watching the light of the occasional passing car slide over the ceiling, he let himself drift, determinedly thinking about nothing.

* * *

Two more dreams of his girl drowning. One where he didn't even find her in time, but was obliged to confirm her corpse when two stoic-faced teammates pulled what was left of her from the wreck during the cleanup. And then, just for the novelty of it? His subconscious threw in a curve for the finale. He gasped awake for the fourth time in less than two hours, tasting bile at the too-real drama of his imagination. Realistically, Deunan wouldn't have been more than five or six, he figured, back when he was still running from the KGB. Yet somehow past and future had abruptly collided in his dreams, the old sadists hunting him had caught his partner instead, gleefully using her as a pawn against him after an ESWAT op gone bad. Briareos exhaled slowly, too tired to rationalize _why_ his subconscious would want him to wrestle with the no-win scenario of caving into their demands or watching them hurt her instead. Naturally, despite his pleading, they'd killed her anyway. Was it probably a realistic scenario? Sure. Was it something he'd _ever_ wanted to dream about? Definitely not.

Briareos detached himself carefully, first from his girl, and then tangle of bedding as he made his escape. Enough was enough. Another hour of 'sleep' like that and he'd drive himself mad. Better at times like this , he told himself, that he just stay awake. Clearly his brain wasn't ready to relax, so he might as well distract it with something trivial for a while. Settling into his chair in the living room, he sighed in annoyance at the unfairness of it. Tired enough that he _wanted_ to sleep, he just didn't have the nerve to try again. Next time he really would wake up screaming, and that would do neither he nor his girl any good. It'd been years since he'd let himself slip that badly. Besides, it was already two AM. He wouldn't have to wait long until morning. Picking up a book at random from his stack of half-finished idle reading, he opened to the bookmark and endeavored to lose himself in the text.

Sunrise came and went without comment. He reminded himself of their early start-time as his internal clock ticked over to five thirty. A shower helped to jog him into a relatively 'ready' state of mind. His instinctive morning rituals did more to help him break from 'yesterday' and into 'today' than the sight of the sun did. Stepping softly past his still sleeping girl, he decided to let her rest a few minutes more, changing in the living room rather than risk waking her by making too much noise in the bedroom. There were some emails that had come in overnight while he was ignoring them. He idly scanned through them as he righted his belt letting his AI resynch with the news feeds in order to catch up with their to-do list for the day. Magus was apparently keeping equally awkward hours. Two of the messages were from him, instructing them to make a detour on the way back to work in the morning in order to grab some paperwork related to the investigation. He sent back a brief confirmation as he picked up some of his living room clutter, not needing to pay attention as he completed the chore by rote.

Briareos inspected the kitchen clinically, noting the trash that needed to be taken out, the dishes that needed to be done, not particularly motivated to deal with any of it in the limited time before work. Settling on something he _should_ do, he reached into the refrigerator to produce a quick breakfast for him and his girl. Frying up eggs required minimum preparation and attention. Really, that was about the extent of his stamina for the day. He hoped whatever the colonel had them doing for drills, it wasn't going to require him to think very hard, or ideally, to care at all.

Some distant rustling - just as the first batch of eggs were out of the pan- heralded his hellcat had finally rejoined the realm of the living. He shook his head, telling himself to get something resembling a good mood together before obliged to interact with other people again.

"Bri?!" Her holler came from the bedroom warning him, if he needed it, that he was not in her good books. Briareos cocked an ear to listen, minority amused by the sound of her swearing and rushing to throw on clothes. She sounded like she'd fully recovered from their marathon the day before, with energy to spare. From sleeping soundly to panicked whirlwind in two minutes flat. That was his girl. If she hustled, she'd have plenty of time for breakfast, he mused as he started a second pair of eggs for himself, but that wouldn't stop her from chewing on him apparently.

"Bri, so help me if you left me behind so that _I'm_ the only one late, I'm going to punch you _so_ hard..."

He plated her eggs, sighing at her predictable temper. It was definitely going to be one of those days.

* * *

DEUNAN

Deunan awoke with a jolt to realize six hours had passed. Damned cyborg, she realized as she blindly patted at the otherwise empty mattress, eyes still gummy with sleep. He'd sweet-talked her into a shower, and a shoulder rub before the main event. The next thing she knew? She was well rested, but all of their precious free time was blown. She forced her eyes to cooperate and checked the clock. Unless their schedule had dramatically changed while she was comatose, they were due back in uniform on the double.

"Bri?!" She hollered towards the bedroom door, aggrieved both at his obvious 'handling' of her the night before and his seeming indifference to the fact that she was going to make them both late. He couldn't even bother to set the alarm? If he'd gotten up so bloody early, it was the least he could do to shake her awake on time. Sliding out of bed, she padded to the bathroom for a blitzkrieg shower of alternating icy and scalding water, and then down the stairs, buttoning a fresh uniform up as she tried to remember where she'd left her boots. "Bri, so help me if you left me behind so that _I'm_ the only one late, I'm going to punch you _so_ hard..."

"I'm right here, woman." He remarked, materializing from the kitchen, and pointing her towards the table with a spatula. "Eggs. Sit. Eat. We're not going to be late. I was about to call you down."

"You should have woke me an hour ago." She was not in a mood to be mollified easily, even by breakfast. Still, fuel was fuel. And there'd be precious little time to raid the vending machines if the morning was as crazy as their last shift had been. Deunan sat down and methodically shoveled the first forkful into her mouth.

"Coffee." He didn't bother trying to answer her complaint as he set the other morning necessity down next to her elbow. Briareos was, of course, already dressed and ready to step out the door. She cursed his cybernetic resiliency. Not that he'd probably ever been a heavy sleeper in the first place. Deunan resigned herself to always playing catch-up in the mornings years ago, and so wordlessly downed her first cup, and let him top her off as she attacked her breakfast with necessary haste.

Moving quietly back to the kitchen, he ate his own breakfast standing contemplatively next to the stove, letting her have her space. She watched him, feeling a little guilty at barking at him without so much as a good morning. But if he was offended, he gave no sign. He too had grown wiser over the years, having learned to let her organize herself into something equivalent to a human being before trying for more than the bare minimum of conversation.

Deunan rubbed her face one last time and forced her brain to get it together as he locked the door behind them, leading the way to their car. Not really their car, she blinked at the sight of the 'loaner' vehicle they'd picked up from the motor-pool on their way to their meet-up with Sokak. It wasn't anything special, just a standard middle class run-around car, but it was jarring to see it parked in their usual space.

"I can't even remember where we left _our_ car yesterday," she mused aloud as she climbed in behind the wheel and took the keys from his outstretched hand.

"Our usual space at HQ." He wedged himself in to the passenger side with a noise of frustration, cramped even with the seat pushed back as far as it would go. "We can grab it at the end of our shift, unless something _else_ comes up."

"Bite your tongue." Deunan grimaced, "I do _not_ want a repeat of yesterday. Not for at least another six months..."

"How're your ribs?" He carefully avoided talking about his own take on the general disaster that had been yesterday morning for him. It went without saying that he was probably _still_ waiting to hear just how badly events on the ship would count against him with the higher-ups.

"Hurting like a bitch." She replied candidly. "But moving just fine. Don't worry about me. Do we swing by Hobishi to ask after our truck driver first before heading over to the office? Or are they sending someone else?"

"They're sending someone." Her partner agreed. "On the off chance Sokak is there nosing around, it wouldn't do for us to be there too. We're to swing by Akichi Motors though, grab their paperwork and take a few statements, since they're nearby. Once we're at HQ I want you to get your side checked out by the medics."

"Don't mother me, Bri. I told you. I'm fine." Deunan changed her mental course-plot to include a trip to Yoshi's worksite.

Chances were that their bioroid friend wouldn't be at the garage yet, being the sleep loving sort even with his genetic and psychological enhancements over mere humans. But _someone_ would be opening up the facility and would be willing to give a friendly hand to her and her partner as they tied off that portion of the investigation.

Briareos made a noise of disparagement but refused to argue further with her while she was driving. Shifting in his cramped huddle next to her, his seat as far back as it was possible to go, he stared out the window instead. Deunan frowned at the stubborn set of his ears, wondering if she wasn't the _only_ one to wake up surly this morning.

* * *

Sure enough, Yoshi was just wandering in as they were heading out, copies of the relevant papers in hand. He was sleepy looking as always. Made more mop headed than ever from his ride over on his motor cycle he looked almost like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket during one of his intricate build-outs. Yoshi raised a hand in cheery greeting as he bee lined to the obligatory coffee pot tucked into the alcove of the showroom. "Deunan! Briareos! Sorry I'm late... the boss get you what you needed?"

"All set. Thanks." She couldn't resist reaching up to muss his hair further. It was funny but true, that all the supposedly 'superior' bioroids that she knew were coffee addicts given half the chance. Yoshi especially seemed to be an eternal teenager in his habits. Deunan was always entertained by his kid-brother attitude when he grumbled and ducked his head at the friendly assault.

Briareos raised a hand in silent greeting, slipping past them to escape the showroom. Not so much as a hello for one of their friends? She rolled her eyes at his continued anti-social behavior. Luckily Yoshi was too lethargic to care that his favorite cyborg had just given him the cold-shoulder. She smiled for his benefit. "You guys are off the hook, we're definitely homing in on some suspects with your shippers though. Hopefully we'll have things mostly wrapped by tonight."

"And the missing gear?" He smoothed his hair down with a free hand as he sipped from his mug. "No luck, huh?

"Not yet, but it'll probably turn up in the next week. Not like your submersibles have much further use for the crooks at this point. We think they've gotten everything out of it that they were going to."

Yoshi blinked at her in confusion. "What use? They wanted to go collect samples from the coral reefs or something?"

"Or something." Deunan agreed, sympathizing with his sleepy confusion. Neither of them were 'morning' people, really. And Bri, who usually was, was seemingly more out of it than the pair of them combined for once. She patted the bioroid sympathetically on the shoulder, not wanting to confuse him further with an explanation when she herself still wasn't sure what was going on. She'd explain later, once the case was close, provided the brass didn't classify the whole thing after the fact. Even then, she'd probably be able to give some approximation of events. "Have a good day, Yoshi. If Hitomi stops by, tell her I said hello. And also, that I said she's not to torture you with babysitting again while you're at work. That's pretty callous, even for her!"

"Thanks, Deunan." He smiled weakly. "Not that she'll listen, but thanks..." Pretending she didn't hear the man's somewhat defeated reply, Deunan made her exit.

Climbing back in her car, she noted Briareos was patiently waiting. Deciding he might as well be useful if he was just going to sit there, she handed over the two folders she was holding before steering them onwards towards the main offices. Three traffic lights and onto the main arterial, and he still made no comment. She glanced sideways at him, wondering at his odd mood.

"Something wrong?" She couldn't help a little of the crispness in her voice, annoyed all over again now that they were alone. He could be catty to her if he really wanted. She was used to it. But it was a dick thing to do to a bioroid like Yoshi. It was like kicking a puppy.

"Nothing's wrong." He stated impassively. "Less than thirty minutes until morning drills, woman, step on it."

Deunan clucked her tongue as she stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light to change. "They know we had to stop and pick stuff up, tin-man. Don't get your cables in a twist. They're probably expecting us to be late..."

"You'll need time on level three before you suit up, too." He remarked in his typical 'I'm not fighting with you, because we both know I'm right' voice.

Deunan rolled her eyes, biting back the immediate sarcastic response that she wanted to give. Hell, he'd gone fifteen whole minutes while inside the showroom without nagging her about her shipwreck-induced injuries yet again. It was probably some kind of record. Still, it galled to be treated like a little kid. She was half inclined to tell him that she wasn't planing to go to the clinic at all, except that would only delay the inevitable. He'd probably drag her by the hair, if she pushed him enough, she decided grimly. And besides, some painkillers before practice would probably be a good thing.

* * *

HQ was as chaotic as ever. Several of the faces she'd past were people she'd seen before leaving the night before. She wondered if they were pulling double shifts, or if it was just _her_. That was always the way it went in ESWAT. It was a wonder any of them even had homes to go to, they spent so little time in them. Deunan navigated the crowded hallways and into their usual annex by the simple expedient of letting her partner lead. His caustic mood must have been noticeable to others as well, nobody really seemed keen on making small talk as he walked in.

A brief detour to the medical wing, and Deunan was finaly obliged to make her own way. Her partner waited in the hall for her. She rolled her eyes, wondering if he was standing guard on the off chance that she'd bolt at the last minute. Or maybe it was simply that his dislike of doctors extended even to the combat medics they worked with every day? Neither were particularly charitable thoughts, Deunan told herself. Probably he just didn't want to get an earful about his shipwreck again by going upstairs alone without her to run interference. That at least she couldn't blame him for. Yesterday had been a debacle from end to end, it seemed. She only prayed that the gossip Sokak had given over had been worth something. If he'd been feeding them false leads, that really would put a clinch on the day as far as 'wasted effort' went.

Patched and taped, Deunan escaped her medical examination in good time for morning drills. She patted her ribs on the way out the door, feeling almost as good as new. Forcing her tin-man to link arms with her as they strolled as far as the elevator, she beamed up at him with her returning good cheer. "Ready for action, big guy. Let's go."

"Yes ma'am." He agreed, mood lightening a little with the favorable report. Briareos humored her clinging a minute or two before shaking her loose, proving that he wasn't a complete sourpuss for the day, but not willing to let her make too much of a spectacle in front of the coworkers just the same. Deunan didn't take his eventual brushoff to heart, just glad to find he was willing to lighten up if encouraged. Probably, she mused, he'd just been bracing for her to put up more of a fight over it. It wasn't like she was a complete masochist, she wanted to scold him. She wasn't dumb enough to ignore her aches and pains entirely. It just irked her when he went all parental. There were nicer ways that a guy could encourage his partner to get checked up. Bullying didn't _have_ to be his default MO.

Finally the found their way through the throng to their usual annex. Multiple badge-access doors gave way to ESWAT central. The main meeting room relatively empty as most of their squad mates were gearing up for the day. Deunan moved towards the locker room as well, when Briareos caught her elbow to get her attention. Someone had started a new threat-assessment during the overnight hours. The usual wall of potential-trouble had a new area filled in. Briareos paused in front of it, huffing in satisfaction at the various images and documents already pinned up. Deunan bounced on her heels with pleasure as she admired the new data too, agreeing that it was a nice way to start the day. Sokak's names had proven the real deal, positive identification of multiple suspects. She could feel her cyborg's mood lightening as he appreciate that their initial tidbit of intel had proved fruitful once the data-miners had gotten their hands on it.

Briareos tapped at the center of the cascaded collage of paperwork in quiet vindication. "Two-for-one... Not bad for a pair of hard-luck LAPD lost in Olympus, huh?"

"Hey now. Don't sell us short, old man. We're the best. Always have been." She answered cheerfully. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a congratulatory squeeze as he found something at last to be happy about. Deunan winced, and then felt bad as he immediately withdrew his arm, sensitive to her hurt. She stuck her tongue out at him to try and distract him from her flinch, but the damage was done. He was worrying again. The helpful doctors had not only given her some meds, but had done her the favor of wrapping her chest in some additional support mesh to brace her against further damage. But that didn't mean that direct pressure didn't cause a twinge or two. She waved her hands at him to show that it wasn't bad. He didn't look like he bought it.

"I'm fine, look! I can bend over and everything!" She demonstrated by twisting and stretching to prove her mobility was unimpeded. The bandages were paper thin but gripped tightly under her padded training uniform, providing plenty of support. No pain, and no real stiffness, she nodded appreciatively to herself before patting his arm in encouragement. "You just managed to find the _one_ bruise they _didn't_ wrap, handsome. Stop worrying."

Pointing back at the wall, she sought to distract him with what the techs had found out about their cyber-sex-doll. Three photos hung together at the center of the growing data-sheet. The images were much better than anything she or her partner had been able to scrounge up. There were not just two, but _three_ women featured, each distinct yet alike the others.

"Deinoa, Enyo and Agara." She mused aloud, reading the names thoughtfully before following a helpful bit of string to a second, far-less interesting photo of the middle woman, dressed in a cargo-hauler's uniform. "Holy shit, our guess paid out? The forged-id chick from Hobishi and the lady chasing us from Preston's were _actually_ connected? I figured it was a stretch at best."

"You've the devil's luck, girl." Briareos huffed again, patting her carefully on the shoulder. "And to think I was ready to play stupid to Sokak later, if it turned our our 'evil sister' angle didn't pan out... this is better than expected. It'll totally look like I'm the guy in the know."

Deunan whistled in appreciation as she looked over the other evidence gathered. The trio of female cyborgs had been very busy ladies since the end of the war, from the look of things. None of it was even remotely legal. "These girls sure have a history, huh? Nice. Glad to see we're working with professionals this time."

"Still no clear-tie in between Preston's missing subs and the shipwreck though." Briareos pointed out, slightly diminishing their shared glow of success with a dose of reality. "But it's nice to see that they're not completely irrelevant to the general situation. Solid persons-of-interest, and probably persons-non-grata right now too. What do you bet that they're in town because of the summit?"

"Says here that they've done work with Mufadi terrorist cells before now. Not exactly zealots themselves though, from the look of it though." Deunan tapped a smaller picture, Enyo apparently, looking drunk off her ass and wearing a barely-there costume in what appeared to be an LA nightclub. Then again, given the homogeneous nature of nightclubs after a certain point on a Saturday night? The photo could have just as easily been Tokyo, or Paris. "Doesn't look like a chaste and solemn member of 'the faithful' does she?"

"No. No I'd guess not. But with that pair for sisters, can you blame her?" Her cyborg snorted in amusement. She nodded in agreement examining the considerably more militant 'candid' images of the other two women. Both of them looked like serious bad-news by comparison, but then, looks could be deceiving. The prettiest of the trio might be the most trouble. Weirder things had been known to happen.

Her partner patted her shoulder again to encourage her to keep moving and not get distracted by the new intel on their mystery women. It was the detectives' job now to sort out how it was all connected. Their responsibilities cut out as soon as the lead was confirmed. They'd get called back in later, if there was a shootout, but probably not before. "Come on, girl. Three minutes till morning A.A. We'll come back at lunch to see the progress."

"What. You mean you're not going to want to use our last few minutes of down time today to play hypochondriac over my _bruises_ some more?" She drawled playfully at him. "Color me shocked, big guy."

"The doctors let you out with a clean bill of health." He shrugged, unrepentant for his earlier fussing. "Excuse me for having your best interests at heart, hellcat."

Tempted to reply with something nasty just to needle him for being confident that he was right, yet again, Deunan practiced her self restraint instead. Pushing through the lockerroom, she split from her partner to swap one uniform for another before joining up with the squad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Promethean Blood - ch 5 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

It was bomb-threat drills again. He was torn between feeling gratitude at the by-now-dull-with-repetition scenario and annoyance at having to even bother with the drills at all. As convenient as it was to have a training run that he felt he could literally accomplish in his sleep? It was obvious to Briareos that the team was as ready for this particular type of mission as they were going to get. Their time could have better been applied with one of the dozens of other common bad-guy-plots they regularly drilled on. Bad enough that search-and-destroy scenarios cropped up every two months as part of the usual rotation, but with the summit just days away? The trainers had a serious case of bombs-on-the-brain. It didn't help matters that it had been a _bomb_ a mere twenty-four hours ago that had started his own operation-gone-bad.

The feeling of deja vu compounded with his repeated nightmares about the wreck made the repetition on the theme even more pronounced than it probably was. Briareos sighed softly, telling himself to get his head in the game. He was no stranger to insomnia. God knew his brain would just throw him a curve every once in a while just for the fun of it. There had always been nights when sleep simply wouldn't come, or worse, would bring dreams that left him rattled for days afterward. It just meant he'd have to play it a little more conservative than usual for the day, factor in a slower reaction time for surprises. Still, Briareos heartily wished the brass had opted for anything _but_ bomb-drills the morning after his ill fated operation. Then again, he supposed, sadists that they were? If not this, they'd have probably had him on under-water rescue, just to really grind his face in his failings.

At least no one else on today's team, other than Deunan, had been along for the ride yesterday. He was spared the inevitable ribbing from the officers he'd unintentionally dunked in the ocean. Undoubtedly he'd meet up with them at dinner. It was the right thing to do, to check in with everyone after training, even if it meant having to confront the lingering humiliation over his failure head on. Thank god none had been hurt, he told himself for the hundredth time. He hated the obligatory hospital visits more than anything. Even then, those were better than the _worse_ alternatives. The thought was a morbid one. He rubbed his head with his hands, knowing it was the sleep deprivation more than anything else that was souring his mood.

Briareos rested his elbows on his knees and took a brief break from looking at the building blueprints. Unlike his teammates he had no need for hard copies, the versions downloaded into his system were not only easier for him to read, but more accurate too. Telling himself to stop thinking about the shipwreck, he concentrated on the here-and-now instead, looking over the hunkered forms of his teammates as they downed coffee and prepared for their first training run of the day. Deunan was frowning thoughtfully over her own sheaf of papers, bomb schematics, from the look of things. She'd snagged a stick of jerky from somewhere, he noted, and she chewed on it methodically as her eyes darted through the material.

She was memorizing. He recognized the abstract look of concentration on her face, as she crammed the knowledge in as hard as she could. She had a good head for schematics and maps, when she bothered to apply herself and actually look at them instead of airily just assuming that she'd remember the relevant details when the time came. He felt marginally better about the day, seeing her take the chore so seriously. Not that he minded when she joked around with the guys or played fast and loose during drills, but it was good to see her professional side too. Deunan noticed him watching, glancing up at him to raise an eyebrow in silent inquiry. He shook his head, letting her know she wasn't needed. Sensitive to his moods as she probably was, he had no doubt his girl was picking up on his lingering anxieties.

The more sensible part of him goaded him to pull her aside and warn her that he wasn't at 100 percent, and that he could use a little backup during the day. Pride warred with practicality for a few minutes as he let his eyes drift around the room instead of settling on her, not wanting to distract his girl again. All of them huddled in to the hallway in preparation for 'storming' their target? There was precious little privacy to be had for a conversation. Besides, telling her would just mean she'd waste precious resources during the drills worrying about _him_ instead of keeping herself safe. Her priority for the day, and _his_, ought to be to keep those ribs of hers from getting abused further. The first time he was winged by a paint-round? Briareos was certain he'd feel _plenty_ alert when it came to the rest.

It didn't change the fact that he suddenly had a very real need to touch his girl for a moment, or even just talk to her. The subject wouldn't honestly even matter. They could talk about the weather even. He just wanted to hear her voice, ground himself in the reality of her. Part of him still felt ever-so-slightly paranoid, that maybe he was still asleep and _this_ was the dream, the nightmares the reality. Briareos leaned back against the wall, acknowledging the stupidity of the impulse while on shift. Mentally disciplining himself, he looked to Magus instead, catching the man's eye and tapping his watch in silent commentary about the time. The curly haired elite smirked at him in friendly superiority before seeming to agree.

Clearing his throat, Magus announced the end of prep-time to the group, marshaling support team members to their posts to ensure the simulation was ready for their first run of the day.

Deunan grumbled softly as she too complied with the orders. Unknowingly, she gave him a little of the contact he was craving, using his knee for leverage as she heaved herself to her feet. A second touch, a sympathetic pat to the shoulder as she slid passed him towards the piled gear and she was fully professional once more as she donned her armor and weapons along with the others. Briareos refrained from reaching affectionately after her to return her silent encouragement in kind. Don't distract her, he reminded himself firmly. He suspected it was going to be a litany for the day. His own preparations required merely the addition of his armored face-guard for the light-duty assignment. There was no room for exo's within the building's confines. Everyone was in flack jackets and carbon fiber field armor for the day. Checking his guns, he waited for the rest of their crew to assemble, reviewing the floor plan once more for good measure.

The techs running the simulation had outdone themselves, he had to admit. Someone had negotiated with the shark-like realtors downtown to get exclusive access to a derelict office building, complete with ten gutted floors, and proceeded to lace the entire place with 'bombs', 'hostages', and 'bad-guys', complements two teams sent over from the local Olympus regular SWAT. He could hear them prepping via the radio chatter before they switched to a private band for their final setup. Briareos resigned himself to the loss of the 'easy' surveillance information on the opposition. His team would have them rounded up in no time, regardless.

Glancing sideways, he found Deunan and another teammate playing a game of rock-paper-scissors while Magus watched on with a humor-filled look. Deunan lost with 'rock' to 102's 'paper' and turned away with a disgusted expression, retreating back to the armor rack to re-hang all the gear she'd put on mere moments before. Moving closer, Briareos looked to his team leader with a curious tilt of his extendibles. "What gives?"

Magus rubbed his chin, watching Deunan strip off her plating with a laconic eye. "Someone has to go into the ceiling, big guy... And it sure as hell isn't going to be you. Not in person, at any rate."

Briareos blinked, immediately getting the officer's meaning. With multiple floors' worth of area to cover, the air ducts and vents were fair-game for playing hide-and-go-seek in. There could be bombs tucked into the conduit, or worse. Recon robots could do some of it, but not all. It made tactical sense that someone from the team would join them. Looking around at the crew with an eye for relative scale, he rapidly realized what Magus had probably thought of hours ago. There were only three likely candidates for the job in terms of pure physical dimensions. He internally grimaced as he concluded that his girl was the best qualified of the bunch, not just physically, but in terms of experience as well. Of course Magus would send her up.

Even knowing it was the practical, the correct course of action, Briareos silently balked at the idea. She'd be alone up there, scouting into potentially hostile areas of the building with barely any armor, or any chance of effective backup. The job would be cramped, uncomfortable, dangerous... it was the short end of the stick pretty much by every measure he could think of. Briareos watched his girl swap her helmet for a headset and stealth mask, her game-face firmly in evidence as she psyched herself for the crawl. Looking back to Magus he felt his anger grow a notch, not only at the way the man was candidly admiring his partner's ass, but at his overall indifference to her situation.

That half the team eyed his girl's figure given the chance? He was normally pretty resigned to. The army had been worse. At least amongst ESWAT, people seemed to take it for granted that the female officers were 'look but don't touch'. On days like today though, the sideways glances couldn't help but annoy. More importantly, he had to wonder, could Magus honestly _not_ realize how much confined spaces bothered Deunan? Either he was being unexpectedly oblivious to her non-verbal cues, or he was just that much of a dick that he didn't care about her discomfort. If the brass were doing this deliberately 'for her own good' in the name of desensitization-via-training he was going to take their so called therapists by the shoulders and dislocate their damned arms.

Briareos exhaled slowly and carefully to keep from doing something stupid like cuffing his senior officer upside the head for being an obnoxious jackass first thing in the morning. If Magus honestly didn't know... did he have the right to tell the man? Deunan was nothing if not proud. Having a weakness exposed, especially one that she herself was inclined to brush off as a non-issue, wouldn't make her happy. If she felt he was going behind her back, it would definitely put him on her shit-list for more than just the day, or hell, even the week.

The doctors had to have flagged the borderline-phobia when she went through initial trials for ESWAT, Briareos consoled himself. It was hardly a deal-breaker for someone of her skill set. Doubtless they'd noted it, and marked it down, and she'd been given a pass regardless. Magus would have seen it on any of the dozens of times he'd reviewed their files for missions in the past few months. Wouldn't he? He bit back any of a half dozen bitchy things he could have said in favor of trying to be firm yet fair. "Magus. Do me a favor and send someone else."

"What?" The man turned to stare at him in surprise. "Why?"

"She's my partner." He pointed out the obvious, glad that if nothing else, his comment had compelled the senior officer to pay attention to _him_ and not his girl's ass. Sure, the odds of him trying for anything with Deunan were one in a million. But still, did he have to be so obvious about _looking_? Everyone knew the man was in Pani's pocket, or soon would be. Common sense would be that he'd _stop_ staring at the other female officers before his own woman caught him at it and beat him bloody. The former marine's temper was nearly as infamous as his girl's amongst the squad. Briareos set his lingering annoyance aside for another time. "We work best as a team. Let us run the perimeter and we'll be far more effective finding outlier threats than we will separately. 102 or 130 can case the vents just as well as she can."

Magus simply continued his doubtful look, despite the reasonable argument. "She volunteered, 113. You have an issue with that, you can take it up with her."

"Volunteered?" He tested carefully, having noticed her expression during the game earlier. "It looked more like 'got volunteered'. There's a difference. Besides, she took a few hits yesterday, cut her some slack for once, alright?"

"Hell, for all I care she can take a nap once she's up there." The dark haired man grinned, slapping him playfully on the arm to encourage him to lighten up. "She'll have an easier time of it in the vents than we will playing capture-the-flag down here, I promise you that."

"Magus. I'm serious." He caught their commander by the arm when the man might have moved away. "I don't want her up there."

"_You_ don't get a vote." Magus disagreed sharply, laughter done with. "If you've got a bug up you ass about something, 113, you can come out and say it. But don't ever tell me how to run my ops. Got it? On your ops it'll be _your_ call whether your girlfriend can hang back and paint her nails, but on mine? She'll put in the same training time as anyone else. So will you, got it?"

Briareos bit back his urge to tell the man in no uncertain terms what he thought of his laid-back way of running missions, and specifically exactly where he could stick both his ever-present chewing-gum and his incorrect assumptions about his partner slacking off under his watch. Deunan was moving to join them. The set of her eyebrows implied that she could guess what they were talking about and wasn't amused by it. Looking towards the rest of the team, he got a grip on his temper, recognizing that he wasn't going to win this fight.

"How many crawlers are we sending up with her?" He turned back to the curly haired officer with a change of topic. He'd served under enough assholes over the years that he could fake obedience, regardless of his personal opinions. Not that Magus was the worst, not by a long shot. Hell, most days he kind of liked the guy. He told himself to stop taking his bad mood out on the man, but it was damn hard to do. "It'd make more sense, if you're willing, for me to stream from them directly rather than going through the support crew. Knowing our scenario designers, there's a good risk of communications jamming."

Magus' face quickly smoothed back into its usual look of bland amusement as he accepted the offered conciliation without comment. "Yeah that sounds likely. We'll use a couple 'bots, I figured. What are you thinking? Start with two? Add another pair if needed?"

"With the layout of the building, I think more than two isn't going to add much to our intel gathering ability." Briareos agreed.

Turning to his girl as she joined them, he ignored her worried glance his way to include her on the conversation. "I'll be running your drones for you. You'll have to help them over any sharp changes in elevation, but they'll be able to give you some perimeter surveillance and act as signal boosters if you need to call something in."

"Great." She nodded, looking between them once again as if wondering if she ought to say something. "But I'd still appreciate it if you guys did your part and lured anyone wielding heavy artillery towards _your_ end of the floor as soon as possible, ok? The fake AP rounds hurt like hell when they hit, and I'm not wearing near enough armor to take the sting out."

"Sure thing, 109." Magus mock-saluted her before sauntering over to the rest of the team to give orders.

Briareos nodded silently in agreement, looking her over for any signs of hidden anxiety. There was nothing in her face or posture that revealed anything amiss, but her heart rate was elevated, and her fingers tapped against her thigh with nervous energy. Deunan was bracing for the task at hand, he could tell, but she seemed to be managing under the stress. Maybe Magus was right, and he really was overreacting? He distracted himself from studying her again, in favor of checking his guns, the motions habitual rather than necessary.

"You ok?" She asked softly, taking her turn to study _him_ now that they were relatively alone. "Things seemed... tense there, for a minute. Something going on?"

"I'm dandy." He shrugged, gesturing that they might as well join up with the others. "You need a boost?"

"I'm good." Deunan disagreed. Proving herself as good as her word, she took two steps back and charged the wall they were walking towards. Getting her hands up over the lip of the vent on her first try, she heaved herself up and in.

* * *

The first run of the day started out without mishap. 'Enemy' operatives fell beneath simulated bullets as they cleared out the fifth floor, sweeping west through their target zone. After a particularly nasty firefight, Briareos slid over to the simulated explosive device and deftly plugged in while his teammates performed fake-triage on each other to address 'injuries' sustained in the skirmish. Briareos kept a pair of eyes on them as he studied the bomb's subsystems, sparing another set for the group providing cover fire at the door against the last of the pretended-terrorists.

His attention was divided into yet another fragment by the split views from the two recon bots scouting for Deunan. With a nudge of his AI he sent one of the little crawlers down a parallel access shaft, checking for spy filament or other listening devices that might give his girl a hard time later. The other he reversed back down the air vent to see where the woman herself had crawled off to. An open vent into a dimly lit space hinted at her detour, but the shape of the metal lip around the gap meant that the little robot couldn't get good traction to peer over the edge.

He toggled over to his private radio link with his girl. "You're being unusually quiet. What's your status? I can't see you."

"Status ok." Deunan agreed pithily, clearly focused on her work. "Just told CIC, I've found a hidden payload. Tagging and bagging now."

"Slow and steady." He advised, not wanting to distract her further if she was about to mess around with an explosive. Unlike him, she didn't have an AI to do the majority of the work. "Shout if you need help."

"I got it." His girl stated calmly, not above getting a nag of her own in. "Don't forget to duck. I hear things are hot and heavy over there. Careful, or I'm going to get jealous."

"Haha."

He let her get back to work, sending his crawler out to patrol on her behalf since it couldn't help in any more material way. Turning his attention to the device in front of him he got to work in earnest. Knowing his track record for diffusing explosives, his teammates didn't even bother to watch on in concern. Briareos made note to let one of _them_ practice on the next one they found, but settled in for the short chore without complaint. Other than the general desire to share the load, he had no issue with diffusing all of the devices they found. There was something almost meditative about the process of cracking the software and shutting it down. It almost made him want to try and hack _other_ things with his AI, just for the sake of the challenge.

Briareos contemplated the impulse as he worked together with his systems to guide it towards his goal, adding some human intuition to the nested logical processes. He didn't make a habit of exploiting his AI regularly, had never really felt comfortable playing god with the various computers in his life. Synching up with the car, or the apartment's security systems was just a matter of convenience, no worse than cross linking with the ESWAT network. But to actively go out and try and circumvent something that he wasn't authorized for? It felt wrong, as ironic as it was for someone like _him_ to say. Deunan teased him for it regularly when they were stuck at one of the insanely long red-lights near their condo. How much harm could it do, to just fiddle with the cycle timing a bit? The last thing either of them wanted, he had repeatedly reminded her, was to cause a ten-car pileup outside their house because she always running late in the mornings.

Thinking of her heckling made him want to huff with amusement as he watched the code cracker click through the various key combinations, homing in on the answer. There was a bit of joking around between his squad and the 'deceased' terrorists now lounging around the room. The guys down the hall taking potshots at each other from around corners were being only slightly more professional. Training wasn't _all_ serious business. The current debate over whom amongst the team would become the day's first 'spatter' was morbid, but cynically funny. Joking aside, those lucky enough to still wear the skins they were born in were sweating hard from the effort of capturing the perimeter before their time was up. It was definitely one thing about being fully human that he _didn't_ miss. In mere seconds the bomb was shutdown, just so much dead weight as he pulled his data lines free and let them retract into his neck.

"We're clear." He announced across the general channel as he slid the disabled weapon towards the door for disposal later. A few halfhearted cheers were testament to the fact that most of his team figured it was a foregone conclusion. He huffed in amusement at their confidence.

Magus came on the line after a moment of radio chatter. "Proceed to zone D on the grid, we're tracking multiple targets on the move with large heat signatures, be prepared for heavy resistance."

"Rodger."

The pair of officers at the door nodded an all clear as Briareos moved up. He took a breath to prepare himself for engaging the next room, swinging his extra-heavy rifle off his shoulder to act as vanguard for the others as they cut towards the western side of the building. Barely three steps down the hall, ready to attack, and everything paused when the lights abruptly cut out.

A wince-worthy buzzer sounded loudly throughout the floor, further driving home the fact that something very bad had just occurred. The men around him flinched and clapped their hands to their ears, cringing sympathetically at the death knell. Eyes automatically switching to infrared in the near pitch-darkness, Briareos turned to look over his shoulder, back towards the other side of the floor, where Deunan had been working solo. Sure there were three other teams running the gauntlet, aside from her, but somehow, he just _knew_ it was his girl.

"Deunan?"

Her radio was probably off, he realized in frustration. Or at the very least muted. That she'd even answered him earlier was pure luck. Infiltrators were supposed to run silent most of the time, it limited the risk of being picked up on signal sniffers. Still, the radio silence was unnerving.

Unbidden, flashbacks from his dreams lurked at the edge of his consciousness, his girl hanging lifeless in the water as the wreck sank around her, unable to answer his hails. Briareos was moving before he was even able to consciously recognize his motivation. It was incredibly bad form to leave his team assignment in the middle of battle. Luckily, it was just a preliminary drill, and with the lights-out? The scenario was pretty much over. The detonation counted as a complete failure to obtain objective. By the end of day, they'd be expected to play through the mission to the end regardless of _what_ happened, but not this time.

As the buzzer died, he could hear his teammates, now a room behind him, wondering amongst themselves about who the victim was. 102 speculated that their opposition had tripped over themselves in arming one of the toy-bombs as a booby-trap. Briareos shook his head, doubting they'd have stopped the scenario for something like that. He relaxed marginally when their private comline flickered active once more. Drill or not, he was too short on sleep to not be immediately anxious when she dropped out completely.

"Deunan. Are you alright? What's your status?"

"Hold on a sec and I'll tell you." She spoke up at last, sounding pissed at herself. She did him the favor of leaving the line open as she huffed and shifted herself, cursing under her breath the whole time. "Eugh. What a mess..."

He had both crawlers on the move now, scuttling at top speed back along the vents to the last position he'd left his girl at. Using the pair of mini robots together, he crawled one on top of the other as a makeshift step, allowing the second to peer over the edge of the awkward vent into the darkness. Even in infrared, the evidence of spattered fluid on just about every surface was easily detectable. He hissed in soft alarm picking up his pace. Even if the 'payload' was just paint, that didn't mean that she hadn't gotten knocked around by the detonator, or suffered some other mishap. Breaking into a jog, he covered the last length of hallway towards her location. "I'm coming. Hold position."

"Don't bother. I'm fine." She spoke up at last, sounding pissed at herself. "Son of a bitch... they just had to load it with double the fucking paint..."

"What happened?" He had to ask, even though it was pretty damned obvious.

Coming around the final corner, he found Deunan already in the hall, Magus and the sub commander approaching from the far side. She held the now defunct bomb indifferently in one hand, liberally _dripping_ with what it had contained mere moments before. Deunan must have slid her stealth mask back to aid her in her attempt to disarm the damned thing. As a result her face and hair were both coated with dark green. She ran a hand through her damp locks slicking some of them back, and causing the rest to stick out in damp paint-glued spikes. It would dry in a few minutes, he realized sympathetically, and would probably cause her no end of grief later to wash out. No time for the luxury of a rinse off in the middle of drills. Especially not for officers who failed to meet objective. "Christ Deunan..."

"Way to go, butter-fingers! You've just set a new record!" Magus concurred in a far more cheerful tone as he checked his notepad. "First splat of the day, and within the first ten minutes too? I know you like being top of the class, 109, but first isn't _always_ best, ya think?"

"Bite me." She drawled flicking paint off her gloves after surrendering her dead bomb to 96 for retrieval and re-arming. Probably it would have a second chance to ruin someone's day before they were done. Seeing their captain's raised eyebrow at her less than politic rebuttal, she sighed and offered a wan smile of apology, "I meant to say... Bite me, _sir_. "

"That's better." The curly haired officer smiled again at the corrected title before turning his attention to business. "What the hell was that, anyway? You usually have a pretty light touch... a brave man might even say 'feminine'. It's not like you to get painted... You alright?"

"Hell if I know what happened." Deunan grinned, teeth startlingly white against her accidental jungle camouflage. "One minute, situation normal. I got the casing off without mishap. I go to ground the screws like in the manual... and next thing I know I've got paint up my nose."

Magus looked over his shoulder at his adjunct, "What was the number on that turkey? Was that B23?"

"B24." The older officer read the side of the case after wiping away some of the paint. "Why?"

"Weird." Magus checked his notepad again, paging through several screens. "That one wasn't supposed to be booby-trapped with a ground-short. Double check the casing for a wiring fault when you re-arm it, huh?"

"Yessir." 96 took the case away, looking perplexed as well as he carefully examined the wet container.

Looking Deunan over as she patiently waited to be dismissed, their captain shrugged in acceptance of the incident. "You definitely won't be the last for the day, Knute. But damn. Way to start the morning with a bang, huh? Come on. Sooner we regroup, sooner the techs can scramble the 'prizes' we didn't find, and we can take a second run. Just do me a favor huh? Mind those screws from now on. The book says tap'em one at a time before grounding for a reason. And I think your partner will agree with me that you'd be considerably less attractive as a corpse."

Turning to lead the way back, the dark haired man chatted into his earpiece as he coordinated the next iteration of the exercise, leaving Deunan to huff and scuff at the floor with a paint-coated boot in a minor fit of annoyance.

"I _tapped_ the damned screws..." Turning to see he was still watching her, she gestured in frustration at her condition. "I _did_. Not so much as a chirp on the read out. Full impedance. They must have been shorted to the side of the box... or maybe there was a loose wire... of all the uncool..."

Not waiting for his response, Deunan shook herself one last time before setting out as well, grumbling as she went. Briareos watched her almost around the corner before it occurred to him that he was probably supposed to be following. Her back was relatively paint free, the streaks and drips trailing around from her abdomen and across her thighs telling the story of just how close she must have been when the thing went off. Probably she had it on the floor. Probably she'd been crouching over it as she carefully pulled the plates free to access the interior components. He could almost see how it would have worked. It would have gone off almost in her face. A real explosion, and there'd have been nothing left of her but a pair of boots and a bucket's worth of cinder.

How could his girl, or the rest of the team brush something like that off so lightly? Like it was just an annoyance, or 'one of those things'? The parts of him still fully human felt weak and sick with the almost-reality of it all. He should have been with her. It hit him like a kick to the chest. In a real op, he'd never have let himself get distracted with chatter, or let her out of his sight for even a minute.

He should have never have let her do something so damned risky alone. So why had today been any different? Hell, why had _yesterday_? Telling himself nothing bad had happened _yet_ for his lack of attentiveness, felt like the worst kind of cop out.

Shaking his head, he resolved to not let it happen again.

* * *

DEUNAN

Someone was kind enough to feed them all a quick lunch at midday, delivered in stacked boxes from HQ catering. Plenty bruised from their morning drills, she and her teammates crouched on the floor and ate while they could, reading files at the same time. Common triggering-circuit diagrams, identification of bomb payloads, safe diffusing techniques, Deunan memorized the complex drawings until her eyes crossed. Sore and tired, she noted that her partner was even quieter than usual during their precious few minutes of downtime.

Still, he didn't shrug her hand off when she reached out to companionably rub his arm during their break, and he didn't seem actively pissed with her over the paint gluing her hair to her scalp. If anything, he seemed just as tired as she felt herself. Deunan resigned herself to a typically grueling day at ESWAT. As much as she might want a real break, or as much as she suspected he _needed_ one, it would simply have to wait. A quick check of the ESWAT news feeds and she sighed that there wasn't even a status update worth noting on their terrible-trio that she could cheer him with.

A brief chance to stretch, chat and hit the head, then they were back on the job. Deunan cursed, sub-vocally, as she was nominated yet-again by her squad to be the stealth-infiltration-specialist. Why even bother to fully suit up in her armor between takes? She groused to herself as she stripped out of her heavier padding and plating yet again. Down to her minimally protective coveralls, knives and pistol, the hope was that she'd never actually see a firefight in the upcoming 'battle'. Not so long as she moved quietly, and her squad did their job in running interference. She pulled the knit cowl over her hair and face, sliding her goggles down to cover the last bit of skin shown. The cloth was damp from the sweat of the last several runs before lunch, which didn't make it any more pleasant to breathe through. At least the paint had dried. Her scalp felt weird with the way her hair had hardened into a sort of paint-slicked shell.

They couldn't have her be stealth-infiltration _all_ the time, but it damn near felt like it. Everyone was obliged to practice different skills during a scenario. But getting hands-on with the uncomfortable process of _finding_ the damned bombs that were occasionally tucked into the duct work or dropped ceilings? That was apparently 'extra credit'. Sometimes it didn't really pay to show initiative in ESWAT.

Given how much officer 102 had bitched and moaned when it'd been his turn to get crammed in the air-vents? She couldn't blame the rest of her team for not jumping up to volunteer to take her place. Hell, half of them were too broad-shouldered to even _fit_ past the initial grating of the duct work. For the ones who weren't, there were plenty of tighter points in the shafts that left even _her_ worrying about getting stuck. Checking her headset and flashlight, Deunan gestured to Briareos that she was ready for yet another jaunt through purgatory.

"Consider it a complement." He murmured as he stood in front of her, looking her over carefully before helping her start her _fifth_ trip into the building's HVAC system. Her cyborg pulled two vent-crawlers from their re-charging carrier case, activating the tiny robots and setting them in the open square of darkness above his head. They immediately scuttled forward and out of sight.

Dropping to one knee, Briareos then offered himself up as a step-ladder. Exhausted or not, she had to smile at little at the act of chivalry, accepting his boost without critique this time. She was too tired, and sore, to pretend that she could make the climb on her own anymore. Once her hands were on the lip of the air duct, he stood up as she heaved herself into the vent, letting her kick off his body for leverage as she squirmed into the unpleasantly narrow confines.

"You know they're only sending you in so much because you're the slimmest of the lot of us. No one else on the squad can maneuver in there like you can." He tried to commiserate with her discomforts, voice coming from the tiny speaker in her ear rather than from the room behind her.

"Tell that to my poor bruised elbows." She hissed into her headset as she proceeded to half-crawl, half-crab-walk her way down the incredibly uncomfortable space. The dents and scuffs in the vent were starting to look familiar, she'd seen them so much in the past six hours. "We need to get 119 on our team for this shit, she's Japanese. Bet she could practically stand up in here." Deunan tried to joke.

Briareos merely huffed in amusement, letting her concentrate on moving as quietly as possible through a vertical intersection, carrying her companion-bots up to join her one at a time. At least the new vent line had a bit of draft to it, carrying cooler air across her face as she softly cursed and sweated her way through the guts of the derelict building. One of the crawlers spun in place and ran backwards, lenses focusing on her rather than looking for threats. She knew he was watching her through the remote search drone and smiled tiredly for his benefit.

"Would now be a shitty time to remind you, baby, that I think that I'm ever so slightly claustrophobic?" She kept her voice to barely above a whisper, not wanting her half of the conversation to carry in the echoing metal box she was crawling through. Repeated exposure to the stuffy confines of the building's guts had only made her lingering urge to panic worse as her stamina waned.

"Because of that earthquake." His statement was softly worried. Her non-verbal grumble in reply made him huff with quiet sympathy. Turning the drone again, he set it back on its task of acting as forward-scout for her. They would be the squad's eyes and ears. Sadly they didn't have any useful manipulative appendages, hence why she was obliged to tag along.

Briareos' voice kept her company as she crawled. "Yeah, I remember. Hell, anyone would be, after an experience like yours. I remember councilors at the time kept asking me if you were having trouble afterward. You handled yourself so well that they honestly couldn't tell one way or the other how you were doing... But still, every now and again, you have some symptoms. Magus says turn on your camera, by the way."

"You watching too?" She awkwardly got the head-set mounted lenses activated, hissing at the unsubtle green glow of light they cast as they carried the scenario in front of her back to her unit-leader's position. On the one hand, she was glad Briareos was there keeping her company. On the other, she was worried that his increasing attentiveness to her in the aftermath of her screw-up in the morning meant he wasn't taking care of himself. "Tell those jerks to get moving. Some interference on the ground would be appreciated sooner than later. Especially if people start investigating weird noises coming from the duct work."

"We're on it." He replied calmly. "You just find the ones tucked in interesting places. We'll take out the explosives under guard or out in the open. I'll keep an eye out for you too. I won't let you get shot at."

After a momentary pause he added on their private line, "Or stuck. So get that heart-rate down, alright?"

"My hero." Deunan sighed, closing her eyes for a crucial series of calming-breaths and telling her subconscious to stop imagining stupid things. Only when the sensation that the shaft was crumpling in around her stopped, did she open her eyes again. Crawling forward to the first junction, she planned her own attack.

Her ribs were less than impressed with her repeated runs through the building's heating and cooling vents. So much for the painkillers, the helpful drugs had worn off hours ago. Luckily the pressure bandages were still on the job, and at the moment, felt as though they were the only thing keeping her in one piece. Deunan resigned herself to _another_ checkup at the end of the day to ensure that it was still just bruises she was dealing with and not worse.

She grimaced and refused to comment on her discomfort as she kept up her pace, marking the positions of enemy activity and potential bombs. Briareos had been oscillating between 'normal' and 'over-protective-jackass' all day. The last thing she needed was for him to start grump-ing again out of concern for her. Whatever the hell was bugging him, she hoped he'd get over it soon. It wasn't like him to bring his bad moods on shift with him. She'd caught him almost snapping at Magus before their drills had started, and that was definitely off sides, whatever the reason.

Deunan sighed, knowing she'd had it far too easy lately. Compared to the badlands where they'd had weeks on end of snapping and snarling at each other over trivial things? He'd been really mellow since coming to Olympus. Sure they'd squabbled in the past few months, but never anything that serious. It'd been too good to last, she supposed. Maybe his surliness was a good sign? Maybe it meant that their tentative 'I can't believe our good luck' honeymoon-period in the city was over and it was back to basic Briareos once more? She tried to think back to LA and remember, really, just how catty he'd been at his worst, for the sake of comparison. The problem was, there'd just been so many random - and perfectly understandable - reasons for his moods at the time. She couldn't be sure what was situational, and what was just him being... him.

Carefully bridging another vertical junction where the shaft abruptly dropped away in a square of darkness to some place several floors below, Deunan heaved herself into another section of square channel. The first of Briareos' remote-spy bots scuttled off to the right, she and the other turned left. She elbow-crawled her way after the damned thing, cursing the fact that she didn't have wheels like it did. A tiny Hermes hover plate to coast along on, she mused, would be a real treat. Probably the brass would shoot the idea down as 'potentially vulnerable to detection.' As if the heat source of a full grown woman hauling herself arduously through the ceiling wasn't going to catch some cyborg's attention? It was just dumb.

She sweated and cursed to herself as she checked all the usual places that something might be tucked in the dead end of vent space, and doubled back to continue along the main line. "At this rate, I'm going to be fully qualified for bomb-squad myself. How many more search-and-defuse runs do I have to do, you think, before I meet the minimum field qualifiers? Another ten? twenty? Hey, Bri, do you think I can get a bump up to my danger pay?" She quipped breathlessly for her cyborg's benefit.

"Bite your tongue, woman." He chided in a worried murmur. "There is no way I'm letting you get mixed up with that group of lunatics. You get in enough trouble with explosives without active encouragement."

"The 'Bomb Brothers' are kind of cute." She tried to distract him from thinking about her mishap on round-one of their never-ending training. She wasn't too keen to think about it either. It was _still_ damned embarrassing, even hours later. For a moment she distracted herself with mundane things as she was obliged to fold herself around a pipe constricting her already tortuously small avenue of access to something even a house cat would find 'cozy'. Reaching back, she lifted her little robot tag-along over the blockage too, letting it scoot on ahead to the next intersection. "Their blast uniforms'd make me look fat though."

"So I'm spared the possibility of you getting accidentally blown to bits by your sartorial finickiness?" Briareos teased her in her ear. "Thank god."

Easing over another barrier, Deunan reached up to switch her cameras off. "Running silent from here. About to intercept the perimeter of 'known activity'. Where are you boys?"

"We're moving into zones A and C for probable-devices, then going back for tentative-device positions B, D, and E. And Deunan, don't forget which wires are which this time, ok?" His voice was all business as he left her to her work.

They had ten 'bombs' to diffuse in total. She tapped her watch to verify the timing. Twenty minutes for recon, complements of herself and her robotic buddies. Forty-five minutes for the actual disarms. And that was with hidden explosives, hostiles, and potentially panicking civilians spread into every nook and cranny? No pressure.

She exhaled slowly and proceeded forward to dismantle a ceiling grate. Someone had maliciously re-tightened the bolts after their last run, all but stripping the threads and causing her to take more time than she liked to get them loose. Sliding the mesh panel silently to the side before peering down into the room, she lowered one of her scopes hoping that her first checkpoint at least, was a quiet one.

So far she'd been lucky, multiple runs, and so far not detected even once. Deunan aimed to keep it that way. She wasn't the smartest in ESWAT, and she wasn't the strongest. She wasn't even the best shot – although pride compelled her to admit she was in the top ten – but she could be a sneaky bitch when she wanted to be, and she was in the running for the most 'unkillable' as well. God knew she tested her luck near-daily on that one. No wonder Briareos threatened to name his first ulcer after her. She snorted to herself and lowered her head in order to look around with her goggles for a deeper study of the room.

There was nothing, just shelves, walls, locked door. It looked like the empty closet it was supposed to be. Turning her eyes towards one of the innocuous shelves lining the walls, she smiled grimly at the way the boxes had been shifted compared to earlier runs. They hadn't expected the same person to run the vents this many times in a row? She immediately recognized that _someone_ had been shuffling things. A new box was tucked innocuously on the second shelf, which was radiating subdued colors to her EMF sensitive equipment. She scanned with infrared just to be sure. It was definitely worth getting hands-on with.

Deunan exhaled in preparation and carefully lowered herself into the room, glad that she'd always kept up with her strength training as she dangled a moment from her fingertips before dropping lightly to the floor. One good thing, she supposed, is that on the high shelf, as it was, someone probably had to arm it _before_ setting it into place. By convention, that ruled out some of the nastier vibration sensitive devices. Still, it didn't hurt to be careful. Her hands barely shook as she carefully removed her suspect package and lowered it with excruciating slowness to the floor to get a better look. Still moving at a snail's pace, she scanned the box again, and continued to check with all the paranoia she could muster, as she folded back the lid. No trip wires, no vibration sensors, no light sensors, no booby-traps. She exhaled in slow relief as her recent training confirmed that was she was looking at was a simple radio-frequency based detonator attached to a thermite payload.

Kid's stuff in comparison to some of the things her team had dealt with so far. Two careful clips, and the device abruptly shut off. Deunan allowed herself to breathe normally at last. Checking her watch, she grimaced at how long the process had taken. She replaced the box on the shelf with far less concern than she'd had taking it down in the first place. Another sweep of the room, to verify that she hadn't be detected, and she climbed a convenient bit of shelving to regain her vent. Putting the grate back on the off chance that one of the bad-guys was cruising around, she proceeded to crawl down the shunt to the next turnoff. Potentially five more to go, she told herself cheerlessly. More, if the scenario-designers were feeling sadistic and decided to 'hide' the majority of the targets instead of leaving some for the rest of her team to find.

* * *

Deunan clipped and bagged her latest 'bomb' with a sigh of heartfelt relief. Tapping on her wrist to acknowledge the threat cleared she blinked when the response was immediate. The team had found 'target 10' out in the open and under guard. She didn't need to get back into the ceiling anymore. Deunan sat on the floor next to the disabled explosives and rested her forehead on her knees. Even in simulation, even on the sixth run through - probably her 23rd consecutive bomb-defusing - the work was still hair raising. Not that she would ever admit to feeling scared in front of the guys, but in her gut? She knew she didn't have what it took to do this kind of work for a living. She'd take being shot at over being exploded, any day of the week.

Really they were right to send her, she figured. Not only were her hands some of the steadiest amongst the group, but her small size also meant small fingers. She didn't have to fumble around the fragile wires the way the boys did. The added advantage of having studied, and even maintained at times, a fabulously complicated cyborg over the years? Just meant she could read diagrams surprisingly well for someone who'd never gone to technical school, and who still didn't really understand the difference between a transistor and a trans-coupler.

Most of the tech in Olympus might as well have been black-magic for all she _understood_ it, but bombs were pretty simple really, even in their worst forms. Payloads, fuses, pre-charges, sensor networks and booby-traps; once she knew what she was looking at? It was all the same game. Trace wire X back to source Y. See what Y was connected to, repeat. Eventually you found something that looked safe to cut, and you'd work backwards from there.

Briareos was better at it, even with his size handicap, but then, he was _always_ better at _everything_, so it wasn't all that surprising. Not like his hands _could_ shake, she supposed. Given long enough clippers with a precise enough tip? He could stand on the other side of the room and still get the job done without so much as a hair of unwanted twitch in his movements. Besides, any bomb with any sort of 'intelligent' component, he didn't even have to touch, other than to plug in with one of his data-cables. He could disarm them with a thought. It was a rather unfair advantage, she thought, but that was how life worked.

Thinking of his deft ability with technology only made her contemplate his behavior since their hurried morning run to HQ. To his credit, once the 'action' had started, he been pretty restrained in his fussing at her. She'd only needed to bite back the desire to thwack him for 'mothering' her a few times since morning. It didn't help that she'd botched her first disarming of the day so utterly. Any chance he _wouldn't_ be in over-protective mode during the remaining drills was gone before the shift had really begun. Luckily, the shock-to-the system that the failure had caused, had been just what her fingers and brain had apparently needed. Both became considerably more nimble on the rest of her attempts.

Deunan tilted her head, hearing the distant noise of the all-out assault happening down the hall. Part of her demanded she get up and join them. Now that the 'bombs' were taken care of, her team were enjoying some well deserved mayhem in rounding up the remaining 'terrorists'.

She'd joined in on the previous two rounds, but without her shotgun and her armor? There was only so much she could do. This time Deunan figured she'd earned the right to catch a breather. Wiping the sweat from her face, she glanced up, seeing that her single remaining bot was still with her, peering down from the air duct that she'd dropped from minutes before. It rolled forward and sturdily bounced on hitting the floor, scooting closer to where she sat.

"Nothing better to do than watch over me? " She teased softly, knowing why the little robot wasn't snooping around as it should have been. "I could be wrong, handsome, but that seems like misappropriation of police resources..."

"A Hecatonchires is supposed to be able to multi-task." Briareos murmured in her ear, sounding almost bored. He was undoubtedly fighting tooth and nail at the same time as keeping her in his sights. "We're almost done, girl. You might as well head back."

She raised a hand and made an 'ok' gesture for his benefit before letting her head drop back onto her knee. In the distance, she could hear the fight retreat to the other end of the floor. How many more times would they do this drill until the brass were convinced they were prepared? For her part, she was ready for a drink, or some more food, or even just a short break from the infiltration part of the job. A few rounds where all she had to do was lay down cover fire for her partner? That she could deal with. She was just sick to death of being crammed into the tight confines of the vents and sent on wild-goose chases for fake bombs that were prone to cover her head-to-foot in in paint when she fumbled at the wrong moment.

The look that Briareos had given her, after the first - and shortest - run, when she'd emerged from 'target 4' absolutely covered in green-goop, had been priceless in its way. Her whole team had frozen on seeing her, torn between horror and hilarity as she literally dripped her way back to the starting line. Magus had openly enjoyed the innate ridiculousness of her failure, chuckling weakly and then with increasingly loud mirth at her completely paint-coated appearance as the day wore on.

It figured. Magus _would_ be the guy who could laugh off a teammate's supposed gory and pointless death. Not that she ever got the impression from him that he wanted her, or any of the team, dead per say. But his sense of humor wasn't about to be dampened by something as mundane as spattered guts, and definitely not something as silly as green paint.

Briareos hadn't laughed, she grimaced at the memory. He'd just stood there silently while the rest of the team attempted to hide their sniggers with varying degrees of ability. She got the grim impression that he'd been seeing blood, and not paint. As if she'd have even been able to walk, had the scenario been real? Failing to disarm a bomb, there wasn't really any 'return to go, collect 200$'. She'd have been paste for the forensics guys to scrape off the walls.

She cursed at the memory of his unnerved stare, and rubbed at her hair, feeling stupid all over again. The epic amount of paint, her first and only coating for the day, was now thoroughly dried in her skin and hair. On the plus side it kept her mop slicked back from her head better than any headband. Probably by now the paint wasn't going to wash out without some serious scrubbing. At this point? It was probably easier to just get her hair buzzed off rather than to even try. Probably that was the whole idea, she supposed. Easier to remember the training, if the price of failure was some extreme annoyance. Still, it was one thing for a guy to buzz his head and go around bald for a few days, as a girl? It really sucked. Deunan grimaced, already able to predict the teasing she'd get.

At least she wasn't the only one 'splattered' by this point in the afternoon. Thus far, ESWAT had six 'fatalities' during practice. No doubt all of them would be getting chewed on after dinner about sloppiness in the bomb-handling department. At least she hadn't accidentally pasted any civilians when _she'd_ screwed up. It was a small consolation, but an important one. She sighed as she found her feet, deciding she might as well get a head start back to their rendezvous point. There was a water fountain there, she recalled. If she started now, she'd get first dibs before the gang arrived.

She made her way slowly back down the hall, carrying her latest 'disarmed-bomb' with her as a convenience for the guys running setup. On reaching the empty break-room, Deunan dropped her 'package' on the floor next to the pile of other fake bombs, moving over to the drinking fountain with grim satisfaction. A whirring noise at her heels let her know that Briareos had been tailing her even back to the start. The bomb-sniffing bot backed discretely into its charging station with a cheerful beep, activity lights still green as it watched her from its nook.

"I'm fine." She grumbled at it, knowing her partner would hear her. "It was just _paint_."

"We're heading back now." He murmured in her ear, not rising to her challenge.

"Hey there, pixie." Magus joked as he came around the corner minutes later. "Wait, are pixies green? Or are those gnomes? Hey, 96, you have kids, you must know your fairy-tales. What's small and green?"

"Dunno." The older officer frowned, pulling off his helmet and taking his turn at the water fountain. "Leprechauns?"

Hearing Deunan's noise of annoyance, the man made an apologetic face at her. "No offense, 109."

"Whatever." She let her glare fall on Magus a moment before moderating it to something more professional. He _was_ her commander, but that didn't change the fact that she was tired, sore, and pissed from being thrown into the ducts for hours. Deunan wasn't afraid to let him know it.

Briareos deliberately stepped between them, seemingly ignoring them both as he moved to collect the second drone from the air vent nearby. Unable to get past some obstacle or another, he must have told it to find its way home by backtracking. Deunan had to smile at the easy way he could steer the usually remote-controlled toys back into their carrier once it was gently dropped on the floor. Briareos turned back to her, wordlessly dropping a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it casually before letting it slide down her back.

She looked up at him, suddenly wondering what he was thinking. It was becoming a genuine trend, she realized. The incidental-seeming touches, the kiss on the rescue-boat, his new habit of calling her by name instead of call-sign even... maybe she was just more sensitive to it lately? Thinking back to the months before, and then wracking her brain for hazy memories of LA she had a suspicion she was right. Briareos _was_ acting different from normal. Lately he'd been unusually casual around her in public and definitely so while in uniform. It was weird, even if most of their regular teammates also counted as friends.

If he suddenly decided that he was cool with them being more publicly intimate in general? Well... great. No complaints there. But what was with him playing the boyfriend-card while they were on the job? He'd never done it before... why start now? She made a note to herself ask him about it later, or rather, to _think_ of how she could ask him about it later without having him blow her off, or get offended.

Narrowing her eyes as she watched the byplay between her tin-man and CO, she realized that this particular 'slip' was not so much indiscreet, as it was a deliberate power-play. Briareos probably wasn't even looking at her, not really. Rather, he was circumspectly watching their senior officer. Glancing sideways, she noted Magus returning his not-stare, a knowing smirk on the brash man's lips. Looking at her a moment, his smile grew slightly before he turned back to the others, cheerfully heckling the late comers as they arrived.

Deunan frowned, easily reading the unsubtle message in her partner's gesture. First break sight-line, then set boundaries? The first gesture was undoubtedly meant for her. A distraction from her frustrated anger at their superior and de-facto mentor's caviler attitude. The casual caress of her back? It was probably a message for Magus. Pick on one, and you pick on both? She shrugged her shoulders, shaking off Briareos' hand. She hadn't asked for his interference. She could handle their self-declared comedian captain without him playing bulldog on her behalf.

Sensing her annoyance, her cyborg stepped away again, stooping to take his turn at the fountain before sliding heavily down the wall to sit cross-legged on the floor. The invitation was there, if she wanted to acknowledge it. His knee was the perfect height for her to settle on and rest for a moment. Deunan leaned against the wall beside him instead.

"Now that we're all here," their squad leader drawled. "I have the final res- This is 21. Go ahead." Interrupted mid-sentence by something he'd heard on his headset, the dark haired officer stood back, palm pressed against his ear as he frowned over whatever the news was.

Deunan looked to Briareos, trusting his superior hearing to give her a clue as to the new agenda. He twitched and cursed softly, hands clenching slightly as he too seemed to brace for action.

"109, 113, 96, you're with me." Magus snapped abruptly, any trace of laughter gone from his face. "The rest of you report to Officer 76 on the 4th floor and join his team for the evening. Hustle people."


	6. Chapter 6

**Promethean Blood - ch 6 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Leaving their teammates behind, they piled not down, but up the stairs, quickly sprinting for the roof. A squad helo was already standing by as they spilled out into the afternoon sunlight. A pair of techs jumped out, a massive case held between them containing the squad's usual assortment of weapons. Paint-loaded toys were swapped with high-grade semi-automatics as they scrambled into the cabin. People grabbed for anything that looked like a harness as the aircraft wobbled with their shifting weight. Deunan felt Briareos' hand slip around her waist as she blinked to adapt her eyes to the shady chaos inside the cabin, guiding her towards where he was wedged against the fuselage. He held her steady as she snapped her safety line to the appropriate hook in the wall by his head.

One perk to being snuggled in next to her cyborg, she had to admit, was that the odds of being accidentally stepped on by a stumbling teammate decreased considerably. Deunan let herself relax minutely, checking her weapon out of habit before hanging it from her belt in favor of assembling the armor she'd grabbed up in a pile and run with. Bending to lock her shin-guards in place she hissed in belated memory that her ribs weren't going to take such a move without complaint. Damn, why, today of all days, did she have to armor up instead of just climbing into an exo?

"Deunan..."

She ignored him, methodically snapping on her arm guards and body armor before exchanging her stealth-cowl in favor of her combat helmet. At least the _armor_ wasn't green, and it covered most of the bits of her that were. She could hear the terrorists' confusion already, "Why are half of them covered in paint? Is this some sort of new tactic?" The first guy to ask, she resolved to herself, would get shot someplace non-fatal. Magus was the last to slide in, squeezing into the only available space between her and officer 96.

"Let's go!" The officer commanded, snapping his own safety line into the wall just as the helo lurched skyward.

Deunan slid only minimally as the vehicle tilted sharply, leaving her feet seeming to dangle in open space as the city wheeled below them. The cars on the streets below looked like toys they were so far away. Putting the dizzying height in perspective, she couldn't help but look for the giant mass of the main Archologies at the heart of the city. The smooth curves of the herculean buildings was still 'above' them, despite their distance from the ground. The sight was truly awesome. She wondered if she still gape in wonder after even ten years living in their so-called utopia. Briareos' hand around her hip tightened its grip, checking any possibility that she might fall, safety line or not. Necessary or not, his inclination hold on to her brought a smile to her lips .

She looked over at him fondly, "I'm not going anywhere, dummy. No need to cling."

"You shouldn't be here." He stated, causing her to blink at him in amazement.

"What?" It had been possibly the last thing she'd expected him to say. Any and all charitable feelings she'd been inclined to a moment before were dashed away, leaving her gaping as if she'd just been dunked in icy water.

"You shouldn't be here, girl." He reiterated, either not noticing, or not caring about her shock. Looking over her head at Magus, he raised his voice to carry over the sound of the engine. "She shouldn't be on this op! She's injured."

"Since when?" Magus looked between them, surprised. "I thought the doctors gave you the all-clear."

"They _did_." Deunan stated, suddenly and utterly furious with the idea that her partner could just stab her in the back like that. "I'm fine! Ready for whatever!

"You're favoring your ribs. You could barely bend over just now." Briareos disagreed, willfully ignoring her sputtered protests. "You need to go back to medical and get another scan. Something could be fractured."

"You need to shut the hell up and let _me_ worry about my ribs, 113. " She rounded on him, awkward angle making her glare difficult. "I don't need you playing nursemaid!"

"An injury, unreported, puts the whole team at risk." He dismissed her argument, not even bothering to look down, staring at their CO instead. "Have her swapped out when we land, Magus. The last thing she needs right now is live combat."

"What did I tell you about telling me how to run my ops?" The curly haired specialist grinned, not offended, but clearly not interested in being bullied, no matter how big the cyborg. "Give the man one day in the command seat, and it goes to his head, I tell ya..."

Not amused in the least, Briareos leveled the man with a look that lenses or not, could have melted lead.

"Easy there, big-guy, no need to boil over. Let me see if I've got this straight." Magus raised a hand to cut him off before he could bark. Looking down at her he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "How bad are you?"

"Sore. Stiff." Deunan shrugged and tried to project her willingness to keep going. "I've dealt with worse. I don't know what he's bitching about all of a sudden. I'm not volunteering to get hit by any trucks today, if that's what's on the menu, but the rest you can count on me for."

"You got banged around pretty good yesterday." Magus nodded grimly. "I read the report. But you've been handling yourself just fine so far, from what I've seen. You're made of some pretty rugged-stuff there, 109. Hardly surprising for our resident mad-woman... Given the choice, I'd rather have you and the 'borg as a set on this one, so you're staying with us."

He raised a hand again to forestall Briareos' anticipated complaint. "But for the sake of the peace, I'm putting 96 and myself on point, with you two acting as fall-back. Got it?"

Eyes going distant as he stared out at the city whizzing by, Magus thought to himself a moment. "Chances are, none of us are going to see much action. Sudoh and his crew are already on the ground. Hounds-to-the-Hunters, we're just going to be there to prevent any of the baddies from getting any bright ideas about escaping through the back."

"For the record. I still don't like it." Briareos growled. Deunan made no bones about slamming her elbow back against his chest, causing him to 'umph' in surprise.

"Shut the hell up. Briareos." She slipped, calling him by his name in her anger. "Seriously, you've been up my ass about this since six-am-this-morning! Give it up already! I've got some _bruises_. That's it. Hardly life threatening."

"Those are not just 'some bruises', girl. Have you even bothered to really look at yourself in the last twelve hours? If you're not willing to recognize the seriousness of-" He snapped back at her, clearly ready to unload the lecture he'd been biting back all morning.

"Children!" Magus barked, banging his fist against the side of the craft above Deunan's head to get their attention. "Now is not the time! What ever the hell is going on with the pair of you, can it for now. That's an order. You can have your domestic disputes on _your_ time, not _mine_. Got it? Try to have some fucking professionalism, will you?"

That at least, got Briareos to pull himself up and snap his mouth closed. Deunan felt a momentary burst of vindictive glee that someone else, besides her, had called him on his recent weirdness. Pressing her shoulders back against the wall of the plane, she studiously looked at neither of the two men as they closed in on wherever they were heading. The aura of tension in the hold of the craft felt very obvious now that she had the luxury of silence in which to appreciate it. Drawing a careful breath and letting it out along with the majority of her anger, she grimaced and glanced sideways at the carefully impassive face of 96 and the pilots just beyond him. She and Briareos had fought plenty before now, but never in front of the squad.

* * *

Later, Deunan couldn't remember what made her grab for the spare breather off the truck as she raced back into the building. It'd been a move of pure instinct. Something in the color of the smoke erupting from the upper floor of the evacuated restaurant, maybe, or the aftertaste of it in the air. All she knew was that one moment, she and her partner were supervising the safe escort of rescued hostages away from the building as their elder teammates remained indoors securing the last of the criminals. The next, she was sprinting into the sudden fog to aid the officers, spare breathing apparatus in hand.

Drawing a deep lungful of relatively clean air, Deunan tasted an odd mix of lemon-zest and butter-cream in the back of her throat as she slid her goggles over her eyes to protect from the worst of the stinging smoke. Weirdly, the gas smelled... well... delicious. It also triggered half-memories of crippling pain in her chest. She didn't have time to worry about that now, she decided. Pushing through the poor visibility, Deunan had her knife out on pure instinct, dodging left and twisting under a suddenly lunging shadow in order to drive the blade down into the meat of a man's shoulder. Thankfully, her automatic reaction to the assault hadn't been a bad one. She squinted through the haze to make sure the guy she'd just knifed was actually a hostile and not a teammate.

Clutching his shoulder, and near gagging as he breathed the toxic air, the man didn't look like he was likely to get up again.

Briareos surged up from the doorway, hot on her heels. Not even breaking stride, he reached out and caught the criminal by the neck, sliding him shuffle-board style towards the door they'd come from without a seeming care for whether or not the man would survive the trip. Her partner's face was sealed tight, jaw guards locked over his nose and mouth. His eyes glowed more than ever with the haze. "It's CX-5, girl! What the hell are you doing in here! Get out!"

"Acquired Immunity! Remember?" She answered shortly, not wanting to breathe more of the crap than she had to, regardless of the fact that the toxin couldn't actually kill her.

Another thirty seconds and it didn't matter, another two fleeing crooks distracted them both by darting through the fog, making a break for the door. These two must have been a little higher up the food chain within the gang, as they'd thoughtfully equipped themselves with gas masks. Deunan vindictively backhanded one of the men 'accidentally' knocking his mask free as she dodged his shotgun. His reaction to the fog was immediate, going bug eyed with terror as he gave up any pretense of fighting in order to clap both hands over his nose and mouth. Deunan wondered for a moment if she'd be brought up on charges allowing a crook to get a 'taste of his own medicine', given that the medicine in question might turn his lungs to jelly. Deciding she could plead ignorance, she punched the man again, square in the face, trusting her partner to catch him on the rebound and toss him towards the door along with his now incapacitated friends.

"Deunan!" Her cyborg protested her unmasked state again, clearly not buying her casual disregard of the chemicals hanging thick in the air.

To be fair to her partner, the smoke was _bad_, she could feel the lining of her noise cracking as she fought to breathe as shallow as possible. She humored him by taking a hit off of her breather instead, drawing a lung full of good air to clear out the bad, crouching toward the staircase where they'd left their teammates.

Gunfire drove her to cover before she could clear the top. Crouching behind a convenient half wall, she swore to herself as she tried to get a bead on the idiot who thought that chemical-warfare wasn't _good_ enough alone and wanted to pincushion her as well.

Briareos didn't even bother to pretend he was concerned over the possibility of a puncture. Vaulting up the stairs and _over_ her hiding place, he jump-tackled whoever the asshole was, landing with a sound of metal-on-metal. Cyborg? She got a peak over the lip of the wall, watching as her partner brought his fist down into someone's prone body with business like force. She hoped to hell whoever he was hitting was a cyborg, she realized grimly. A flesh-and-bone assailant would be dead from a hit like that. "Bri!" She warned him, wondering at his unusual zealousness.

"He's down." Her partner agreed grimly, flipping the metal-plated body over and deftly disabling elbows and knees to keep the man from getting away. "Why are you still here?"

She shot over his shoulder, aiming for the tell-tale red beam of tracer light twinkling abruptly through the fog. A distant cry of dismay and a smattering of angry German made her grin viciously. Turning to her partner she offered him a sarcastic, "You're welcome."

Briareos merely growled wordlessly, leaving her behind as he darted off to the right, chasing some other gangsters that only he could see. Deunan swore under her breath at him, and felt the back of her throat tickle, heralding a cough. It wasn't unexpected, given the crap in the air, but still didn't fill her with joy. Having survived exposure once, she was one of the lucky few – or so said the doctors at the refugee quarantine areas – who lacked the genetic susceptibility to the chemical compound. Added to that, her nanites now had an excellent profile of the toxin for breakdown. The clinicians who'd run her analysis speculated that she'd never get as sick again as she had the first time, even in the unlikely event of repeat exposure to the rare weapon. Deunan was grimly amused to realize she was about to find out. Pushing past her hiding place, she crouched across the open room looking for signs of friends or foes.

96 was on the floor, coughing and gasping as if his life depended on it. Deunan moved to his side pressing the breather to his face in order to get a fresh supply of air flowing into his abused lungs. His color wasn't good at all. She bit her lip at the need to get him, and anyone else she recognized out of the building as fast as possible. She'd never bothered - after patting herself on the back for her own lucky escape - to read up on just how lethal the crap was, and she didn't want to find out now. Deunan got a hand under his shoulder, ignoring her aching ribs in favor of helping him sit and then stand with her assistance.

Briareos nearly got himself shot, emerging from the fog like a ghost on her five and causing her to flinch with his sudden reappearance. She put up her gun with a look of exasperation at him, noting that he had Magus upright with a hand under his armpit, and Sudoh slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The older man was looking the worse of the three, completely limp as he was hauled out. Deunan breathed shallow as she lead their parade of fools back to the relative safety of the street. They encountered no further resistance. She carefully didn't look too closely at the other would-be hostage takers, and officers who were laying unmoving on the floor around them. The glimpses of blood and contorted bodies in the fog told her all she needed to know about how they died.

Her friends in ESWAT undoubtedly had military grade nano-machine boosters in their bodies allowing them to cope with the gas. The same couldn't be said for the rank and file police officers, crooks, or civilians caught in the attack. Deunan staggered back out into the street and supported 96 as far as the EMTs. The medics took over for her, rapidly getting the officer up onto a gurney and attached to a proper life support unit. Magus and Sudoh were treated with equal haste. Magus pulled off the mask and shoo-ed away the helpful bioroids long enough to point to her partner.

"You. You have this op until the Colonel tells you otherwise. Hold the fort." He paused to cough painfully, blood coming up as he did. The man looked decidedly gray, but found voice to continue. "Try not to sink any more ships before I get back, huh?"

Briareos nodded and turned to do as instructed, rapidly marshaling the remaining cordon, organizing the hurried arrival of the HAZMAT crews and soothing the flustered officers around him. He gave orders and responded to questions like he'd been in command his whole life. It helped, naturally, that he towered above the rest of the officers currently on the ground. His calm voice and clear-yet-firm aura of authority soon got the air of panic soothed amongst the rank and file. Deunan watched with a smirk, resisting the urge to tease him about it. Sad to think that only this morning he'd still been wrestling with his insecurities over his command from the day before. For the moment at least? He was in his element; too preoccupied with the here and now to have time to worry about might-have-beens and could-have-dones.

Feeling a tickle in the back of her own throat as her lungs reacted belatedly to the toxins she'd been breathing, Deunan grimaced and forced herself to not copy Magus in coughing up copious amounts of internal tissues. One of the ever present cadre of identical-looking nurses employed by ESWAT caught her by the arm, steering her to sit on the fender of the ambulance while they ran a series of scans. Deunan grimaced particularly when they made her take a breath-test. She knew damned well that once she started coughing, it'd be damned hard to stop. If she was going to be hauled off on a gurney, Deunan wanted to do it while her partner wasn't looking.

"How come you're still upright?" Magus croaked as he pulled his mask away again to complain at her once his nurses were distracted. She smirked at him, acknowledging that misery enjoyed company, and the fact she was still-self sufficient while he was all but restrained-for-his-own-good was one in the eye for the brash man. "This stuff's supposed to have an 80% mortality rate to people without nanites, and a 10% rate for those of us lucky enough to have the booster..."

"I'm a class-4 gene variant." Deunan confessed, the words triggering the inevitable coughing-fit she'd been trying to avoid. Something deep in her chest became raw and painful within moments of hacking, leaving her hand wet when she pulled it away from her mouth. The blood was a weird, dark color when she looked at it. Her nanites were hard at work she figured, pushing the toxins into the outermost capillaries to be torn free as her body sought to clear the poison. "And I've been exposed before."

"This shit has been an interdicted substance since before the fourth war, girl." Her captain grimaced in pain as one of the nurses jabbed him in the arm with an anti-toxin. The curly haired policeman's color was still bad, but his movements and speech were growing more coordinated with every minute he was allowed to recover. "How the hell did you get exposed? Some sort of terror attack in LA?"

Deunan shook her head, able to remember little from the incident. "Not even. We were in the badlands. Found a ghost town that was too good to be true."

Studying her hands, she found she could still recall the sensation of the insane fever wracking her body, the feeling as though the next cough would simply turn her inside out. She'd been half out of her mind from the toxin, flat on her back for over a week. If not for Briareos? She'd have died. It was a simple as that. He'd taken care of her, playing nurse, forager, and protector non-stop while her nanites slowly cleared her body. She frowned at the memory. It hadn't been a good time for him at all. He'd gone days without sleeping, near-collapsing once she'd been well enough to stay awake and feed herself. It was a wonder, honestly, that either of them had survived it, a genuine low-point for their desert adventure. Hitomi showing up a month later had been a god send.

"I don't remember much, honestly. You'd have to ask Briareos for the details on it, but there must have been a leaking stockpile. The fog bank was persistent in low lying areas. It made the whole place smell like a bakery. That's how I knew you guys were in trouble." Deunan smiled at the odd impulse that had driven her into the building. "I remembered the smell. You wouldn't think something that evil could smell so good..."

"Like cupcakes." Magus agreed, chagrined, unknowingly using the same metaphor she herself had thought years ago. "Right until I felt my sinuses burning out. Which... was after about six seconds."

He grimaced in sympathy as she was wracked by another series of wet coughs, adding his own to the chorus. Off to the side, Sudoh came awake with a choking noise as they were loading him for transit. He looked both disoriented and miserable as he was carried away. She waved at him anyway, it seemed the friendly thing to do.

Taking slow, easy breaths, Deunan waited for her coughing fit to pass, accepting her own inevitable needle jab the next time the nurse flitted past. At least she wasn't obliged to breathe with a nebulizer, she figured that was a good sign. They must not have thought she was doing too bad if they weren't harassing her as much as the others. Magus was coaxed to lie down properly again, the breather fitted back against his nose and mouth. Eventually he was loaded up too, leaving her alone to watch as the former hostages were cleared through the interview process and allowed back into the waiting arms of family and friends. Another few minutes, and she was feeling well enough to stand on her own again. Deunan escaped from her well meaning wardens and moved to see what Briareos needed done.

* * *

She found him with the HAZMAT team commander and restaurant's terrified looking owner, discussing protocol for sanitizing the building. Coming into the middle of a conversation regarding nano-machine dispersal and microbial sterilization, she decided that silence was the better part of wisdom and simply waited her turn to be recognized by her harried partner. Glancing over her shoulder at the restaurant, she hoped to hell that they wouldn't just decide to pull the building down completely. It seemed like a nice looking place. Looking at the now-forlorn looking building, Deunan wondered when the last time she'd gone out for a classy dinner. Weeks of overtime blurred together as she reviewed them in her mind. They'd met up with Hitomi and Yoshi for a lunch, not so long ago, hadn't they? And there'd been drinks with Sokak, of course. That'd been rather fun, for espionage. But when was the last time she and Briareos had done something just the two of them with no agendas? It felt like ages.

She noted her partner focusing at her out of his rear-facing eye, and offered a small smile of encouragement. He didn't pause his conversation, letting the other two men finish their reports before turning over control of the site. Only when they were left alone did he turn back to her, studying her minutely for a long minute before reaching out a tentative hand to brush her arm.

"Deunan."

"Hey." She greeted him, wincing at how raw her probably sounded to his sensitive ears. Hoping to distract him from herself, she gestured at the building with her thumb. "Looks like there's not much left for me to do, huh."

Briareos merely stared at her, his silent inspection making her want to check herself for any embarrassingly misplaced gear or obvious stains. Deunan rubbed the back of her neck in defeat at once more being unable to really provide much help to him on handling cleanup on an op. With the shipwreck, she'd only just managed to get out of the water and get her head around events before they'd been obliged to jump on the next emergency. Here, she'd been too busy getting prodded by nurses to help. Grimly, Deunan wondered just what new chaos would rear its ugly head now that their latest mess was resolved. Someone had to babysit the few thugs they'd rounded up from the smoke back to the nearest holding facility. Maybe she could volunteer for that?

"You ok?" Briareos asked abruptly.

She frowned, picking up on his mood. He didn't _sound_ like he'd be glad to hear a positive answer. If anything... he sounded, and looked, pissed. "I'm fine." She tried to deflect his attention back to the scenario. "Things under control here?"

"Sure. Cordon's up. Locals are taking over keeping the civvies from wandering too close. Colonel wants us back at HQ asap."

"What about the goons?" She glanced over her shoulder at the huddled group of misery being treated, albeit a little less kindly than her guys, by the flock of diligent nurses. "I can-"

"Leave'em." His surliness came through with the way he stared in disgust at the men. "Locals can handle it."

"Anything involving bio-terror is way above a local detective's pay grade." Deunan disagreed, marveling at his lack of curiosity at the criminal's motives. They'd managed to get an interdicted substance into a major city, and had the balls to actually _use_ it, and Briareos was only interested in getting back to HQ?

Knowing that he was probably grinding his teeth at her delay, she detoured towards the group, nodding a greeting at the irate officers on guard duty around them. The thugs didn't look like much. But then they never did. She kicked one of the healthier looking ones gently in the thigh to get his attention.

"Hey. Carrots." She nicknamed him for his obviously dyed hair. "Where'd you get the gas from, huh?"

"Fuck off, fascist." The crook grumbled, looking up at her belatedly and blinking in typical surprise to find her body armor distinctly feminine. "Or fuck me, if you prefer? I could go for that."

Deunan ignored the equally typical crude-come-on. "You have to know that shit requires special containment vessels to transport, right? It's corrosive enough that it'll _leak_ out of most normal tanks after a few days. Only ten parts per million is considered extremely carcinogenic to un-boostered humans. What do you want to bet that your black-market bargain nano-kit is up to the job?"

"You're lying." He snapped back, but looked towards the still fog shrouded building with a worried expression.

"Tell me where you got the goodies from," Deunan drawled. "And I'll put in a good word for you at the hearing when they decide whether to treat and rehabilitate you here or just leave you in a hole somewhere in the badlands with your throat swelling shut."

"You still got one mean mouth, hot-lips." One of the other thugs commented in cheerful fashion as his friend silently fumed. "If I tell you what you want to know, will you put in a good word for _me_?"

The unexpected nickname made her pause and look towards the speaker. Probably it was just chance, she mused, searching the rumpled and filthy bunch for her heckler, but before the war people _had_ once upon a time refereed to her teasingly as 'hot lips'. It'd been singularly inappropriate, given that the nickname had stuck starting with her being only fourteen or fifteen, but that was the police for you. Everything was strictly formal when it came to the city at large, and then unrepentantly filthy when it came to each other. She hadn't minded, the nickname had been better than the alternate. She'd _hated_ being called 'princess'.

"See you still got that steel-jawed idiot following you around like a woebegone puppy. He taking good care of you? Or do I need to give him a stern talking to..."

"What the hell..." Her eyes narrowed, finding her petitioner at last. Stocky, his face was all but hidden by the ski mask he wore, but pale blue eyes twinkled as their stared up at her, completely at ease with the fact that he was handcuffed ankle to wrist waiting to be transported to a detention center along with his cronies. Reaching down, she snatched the knit sock from his head, revealing a short crop of dirty blond hair and a bruiser-ish sort of face. "God damn..." She bit back the urge to call him by name, feeling nearly disoriented by the sense of recognition.

It wasn't every day that a person she thought was dead suddenly popped up out of nowhere on the wrong end of a crime-scene. It wasn't a particularly nice surprise, she found. "You-"

He winked at her, "Come on, princess, I'm willing to be cooperative as hell here. How about you give me a ride to the station? For old time's sake? These guys are pathetic, even for amateurs."

That was too much for even his disheartened gangster friends to take without complaint. Deunan watched one attempt to lunge for him, only to fall over abruptly, forgetting for a minute that he was cuffed hand to foot. "You son of a bitch, Coltrane! You sell us out and I swear to god that when I find you I'm gonna-"

Scott smiled paternally at his former partner in crime, "By the time they're done with you? You won't remember your own name, jackass. From what I've heard, the stuff Olympus does to convicts during rehabilitation? Makes normal brainwashing look like a spot-rinse. I could walk up and kick you in the ass and you won't know me. You'll be too busy singing Kubayas and picking up litter in the park to care."

The shouting had drawn Briareos over. Deunan wasn't sure whether she was glad for the second opinion, uncertain of what _she_ wanted to do, or peeved that now he would be pissed about this new turn of events on top of everything else.

"What the hell are you doing here. You're supposed to be dead." Her partner didn't pull punches, staring down at Scott's grinning face with a look of tired annoyance.

"Good to see you too, giant." The former police officer continued his trend of not referring to them by name. Deunan wondered whether it was self-preservation, or a courtesy paid to them on the off chance that one of the criminals wanted to track them down later. "You're looking good. New parts?"

"You're running with a nasty crowd these days, 'Coltrane'..." Briareos remarked grimly. "What makes you think we're going to play nice with you?"

"Cuz I'm willing to dish-up the scoop on all kinds of gossip your bosses are going to want to hear?" Scott shrugged playfully, not put off by the cool welcome. "And because I've got a message for you too, big guy. Part of the reason I came along on this idiot operation in the first place, really. Heard you were in Olympus, thought I ought to look you up. Pass word along, you know, for old time's sake."

"So you smuggled yourself into the country with a bunch of terrorists and detonated a canister of CX-5 in the middle of a populated district in order to find me?" Her cyborg's voice shifted to a bark as his anger got the better of him. "God damn you, man. People are _dead_. What the hell is the matter with you!"

The blond had the good sense to look pained at the news, raising his hands – or trying to – in his own defense. "That wasn't _me_. I told them this was a shit plan weeks ago, I even sabotaged some of the cartridges to keep them from going off! Just check and you'll see! I couldn't get to all of them without giving the game away though, alright? So fuck me for being only-human!"

Deunan put a hand on Briareos' arm when her partner might have grabbed for the man's neck. Already on edge, her cyborg was clearly seeing red. She, on the other hand, could see Scott's position. She didn't _like_ it, particularly, but it'd probably been the best he could do. The guy had always been a little bent, ethically speaking, but he wasn't a murderer. Probably, if his intel was good enough, and he talked fast enough, he'd be able to get a pretty lenient treatment by the intelligence folks. Especially if they put in a good word with Argus for him.

Besides, once her partner calmed down, he'd remember that Scott mentioned he had info related to _them_ too. She couldn't help but be curious. Since coming to Olympus they'd heard next nothing about their old squad, friends left behind in LA, hell, even her father. It would be good to hear any gossip Scott might have. Still, the police cordon was no place for a conversation like that. Covering her mouth, she coughed a few times, clearing the lingering crud from her lungs. That seemed to get her partner's attention more than anything Scott had said thus far.

"Fine." Her cyborg sighed, seeming to come around to her way of thinking. "I'm passing word up the chain. No promises anyone will be interested though."

Reaching down, Briareos hauled Scott to his feet, pulling him several meters away from the other crooks before dropping him roughly back to the pavement again.

"You. Officer." He pointed to one of the guardsmen and then down at where the blond lay cursing. "Keep this one isolated from the others and flag him for separate interrogation. Be... polite about it. He's a possible friendly. Don't uncuff him though, and for god's sake, don't leave him unsupervised. He's a slippery bastard when he wants to be. Tell the investigators to get a hold of myself or 109 here if there are questions about his backstory. Also, have them tell ESWAT where they're storing him once he's settled, we will want to question him ourselves later."

"Sir. Yes sir." The policeman on duty agreed, waving a teammate over to take charge of their unwanted headache.

Deunan rubbed the bridge of her nose as Scott was hauled over to a waiting van and seated between armed guards. On the one hand? She was genuinely glad he wasn't dead. On any other day, in any other circumstance, she'd have laughed for joy and probably hugged him breathless. He was a reminder of LA and all the good times they'd once had. It was a damned miracle that he'd survived the war. On the other hand? She wondered just how much trouble-by-association his presence in Olympus would bring her. That he was here _now_ of all times, and running with terrorists of all people? There were going to be questions for her and Bri, to be sure. They'd need to present a united front when the detectives came calling. Given how hot-and-cold her partner had been running lately, she knew it was easier said than done.

Briareos waited until she looked back his direction before wordlessly gesturing towards a waiting unmarked car. She could take the hint, walking with him as the local squad took care of the wrap up around them. His longer strides let him get ahead of her just enough to open the back door in anticipation of her arrival. Deunan raised an eyebrow at the unusually chivalrous gesture, but slid in just the same. The reason for the back seat, she noted as soon as she was in. The car already had a driver. An officer in EWAT colors was waiting patiently behind a screen of privacy glass. Briareos slid in beside her, rocking the vehicle with his shifting weight as he slid the door closed behind him.

* * *

"What's going on?" Deunan waited to ask until after they were moving. "What's got you so riled, big guy? I mean, seeing Scott... it's not _that_ bad, is it? He's Argus' problem now, not ours..."

"Deunan..." He started, and then stopped himself, staring out the window for a strained moment.

She reached out to touch him only to have her hand brushed aside. Deunan blinked and pulled back, uncertain of what she was meant to do. "Hey..."

"What the hell is the matter with you lately?" He turned to her, trusting the glass to keep his voice contained within their compartment. "Charging in like that- You of _all people_ know damned well what CX-5 can do. Christ, Deunan, it nearly killed you the first time! Are you out of your god damned mind?!"

"What?" She blinked again. "Briareos, what are you talking about?"

"The _gas_, Deunan." He reminded her pointedly. "My god... You've already forgotten about it, haven't you... And the bomb? And the wreck?! What the hell will it take, girl, to make it stick? Huh? How many more times are you going to stretch your neck under the axe as a dare before it occurs to you that _maybe_ you won't be able to pull it back in time? I don't know what the hell is going on in that head of yours lately, woman, but whatever it is... You _need_ to sort out your god damned priorities!"

"What axe?" Deunan stared at him in amazement at his outburst. "Wait. Are you trying to tell me that the wreck was _my_ fault? What the hell!"

"I'm trying to tell you-" He exhaled and leaned forward to rub his head with his hands. "Never mind. Just forget it. You never listen anyway. What's the point."

Deunan felt her jaw drop at the unfairness of first the unexpected attack and then the brush off. There was no way; no way in hell that she was going to let _that_ slide. Briareos might have had a shit week, she conceded, but she'd been right there _with_ him most of it. And he was pulling this sort of stunt with her?

"Hell no!"

"Huh?" He looked up at her declaration.

"Hell no, I'm not going to forget it!" She snarled, forgetting for a moment that her lungs still felt scorched from the gas and that her ribs were none-to-great either. He'd started this damned fight, and she was going to force him to finish it. "You are _not_ just jumping down my throat like that and then pretending it didn't happen. Not today!"

"What the hell is wrong with _me_?!" She slapped her palms against the seat in fury. "Fuck that! What the hell is wrong with _you_?! You've been acting like a asshole for days now! And have I called you on _your_ bullshit? No! You know why? Because I've been trying to be fucking understanding of your so-called-feelings, you jackass! Now you pull this shit on me? Well here's a news flash for you, Bri. I _didn't_ plan for the damned wreck, ok? Totally took this girl by surprise! And as for this morning, well shit! I'm so sorry, but I didn't see that coming either!"

She gestured incredulously with her hands as she let him have it. "You think I fucking _enjoy_ being painted head to toe? Because it's no joy ride on this end, let me tell you... It was a fucking _accident_, shit happens! You know?"

"You ran into a building full of toxic gas, Deunan." He challenged her right back, matching her glare with a cybernetic one of his own. "What kind of moron would volunteer to do something that stupid _twice_ in one lifetime?! Especially when you knew perfectly well that _I_ could go in and take care of it without any risk at all... I'd ask what the hell you were thinking... but I know the answer! You _weren't_! You never _think_! You just charge in and somehow just assume that everything's going to be ok, Deunan. And it's _not_ always going to be that way! One of these days you're going to get yourself _killed_ and god help me, I don't think I'm going to be able to stop it!"

"What was I supposed to do, snap my fingers and tell you to go in alone?" She sputtered in immediate annoyance. Why the hell he was trying to make her feel guilty about saving people's lives, she didn't understand.

Deunan chafed her arms with her hands, wondering what he thinking. That he was upset was plain. That he was upset with _her_ was also obvious. But why? What was different about today than any other? Sure the job had its risks, but it was ESWAT. It wasn't meant to be easy. She bit back the instinctive urge to tear up at the undeserved dress-down. Pride wouldn't let her just roll over and take the blame for something when she wasn't even certain what – if anything – she was supposed to have done wrong. Deunan shook her head, hating how her reactions to his temper were always so predictable. Fight or flight, she _hated_ fighting with him. It tied her stomach into knots. He was always so god damned reasonable, and deep down, she was always worried that maybe, he was right. But he wasn't. She reminded herself. Not this time.

Trying to keep her voice moderate, she tried again to bring their argument back into the realm of a sane conversation. "And you _knew_ that gas couldn't hurt me... not seriously. Why are you so freaked out?"

"Not Serious. Not serious?! So that stuff you were coughing up back there was what... just red-colored syrup?" He snapped in reply. "Only you, Deunan, would call hemorrhaging the lining of your lungs up 'not serious.' The only reason the EMTs didn't take you too was they didn't have room!"

"I'm fine now..." She tried to point out in her defense. "They'd have called another truck if they thought I needed it!"

To be fair, she admitted to herself, it'd have been a lot more convincing if her voice wasn't still a little raw from the coughing earlier. Her lungs felt scorched, but like a sunburn, she was confident it was only surface damage. By morning she'd be good as always. "Seriously, tin-man... What was I supposed to do, let them die in there?"

"You could have taken care of yourself _first_." He reminded her. "Put the damned breather mask _on_ rather than just carrying it in, for instance. Or let me go in ahead of you to check for hostiles, at least... HAZMAT was only 2 minutes away, they would have gone in with full suits and pulled the guys out at no risk too. And this morning... you could have asked for fucking _help_ before blowing yourself to kingdom come. Or not let Magus bully you into to running the vents alone, maybe?"

"And yesterday?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell me oh-knower-of-all-things, what the hell should I have been doing during the shipwreck, in your humble opinion that would have been better? What was everyone else doing right that _I_ alone wasn't doing? Huh? Should I have sat quietly up on deck under your supervision the whole time perhaps? I know, I should have made coffee for the guys! Bet that would've been perfect huh. Silly me, thinking I was going as your partner on an op to actually _do my fucking job_! No wait, I might have _fucking scalded myself_ with the hot water, so you probably wouldn't even want me to do that!"

"You're being ridiculous." He disagreed matching her angry tone with his own. "And you're completely missing the point! You take too many damned risks, girl! I thought it was bad before, but now it's practically a damned psychosis... And I'm sick of watching just how cheaply you value your own god damned life!"

"It was just paint, Bri!" She cried in frustration, wanting to throw something at him for his infuriating fixation on the accident. It was stupid that she even had to remind him that it hadn't been real. It was training. People were _supposed_ to fuck up during training. That was how they learned _not to_ during the real thing.

"And yesterday it was just _water_." He pointed out bitterly, returning his head to his hands. "You might as well say it was just _air_ a minute ago! So what's it going to be _tomorrow_, girl. Huh? And how many times? How about giving me a hint... because god knows I can't seem to keep up with you lately without one."

"Now _you're_ the one being ridiculous." She huffed, annoyed and scared and worried all at once. This wasn't like him. She felt as though she'd been walking on eggshells all day and things had finally started to break. "You're freaking out over _nothing_, baby. Magus was right, you're all wound up today and you're not acting like yourself! Did the docs check you out yesterday after the op? Maybe you have some damage they need to fix... Maybe something's gotten knocked out of whack..."

"Damned cyborg's acting up again." He joked angrily. "Hit him with a wrench for a minute or two, he'll shape up. Better yet, why not just reboot him? That'll set everything right as rain. He won't even remember why he was acting up in the first place, right? Thanks for the vote of confidence, girl. I'm so glad to know where you stand."

"That's not fair." Deunan snapped back, hurt by his sarcasm. "It's pretty damned obvious to me right now that something is pretty fucking wrong with you. If it wasn't, you wouldn't be talking this crazy shit! Would you listen to yourself? I've heard chronic-PTSD cases on the bus sounding less mental than you! If I didn't know better I'd say your AI was screwing with your brain! Christ, I wonder if this is how Tomahawk sounded, when _he_ started to go!"

No sooner than the words had left her mouth, Deunan abruptly clapped her palm to her lips, mortified at having said them. More than five years of squabbling with her man over stupid shit, and she'd never once brought up his Hecatonchires AI. What the hell had made her want to do it now? She wanted to kick herself, hard. Doubly so when she met his stunned stare from the other side of the seat. It didn't matter any more how mad she was, or how much she wanted to pay him back for the hurt he'd caused. That had been the _wrong_ thing to say.

Briareos was silent for a full thirty seconds as he processed her accusation. Slowly sitting back, he stared at her as if afraid she'd lunge at him. "I'm not crazy, Deunan." He whispered at last. "And if - by some chance - I'm finally _going_ crazy...? It'll be because of trying to deal with _you_ day in and day out."

Shaking his head, he leaned sideways against the window, every angle of his cybernetic body implying a bone weary exhaustion. "Really... I'm at wit's end with you girl, and I don't know how much more I can take."

"You can leave any time you want." She whispered angrily, guilt searing a hole in her chest worst than the gas had tried to do.

Way to win an argument, Deunan, she chided herself. Anything she tried to say to further her cause was irrelevant now. Winning by telling your boyfriend that he was starting to remind you of a serial-killing-psychopath who tried to flirt with you once? That wasn't what she called a 'successful tactic'. Deunan bit her lip, feeling about as big of a screw up as she could get. Slouching back into her seat she watched several intersections roll by as she struggled to think of something to say.

"Briareos..."

"Leave it." He advised softly. "Just... not now, ok?"

She balled her fingers into fists in her lap, nodding silently in agreement. He was right. They needed time to cool down if they didn't want to be at each other's throats as they pulled into motorpool. Besides, what was she supposed to say? Riding in silence to HQ, she spared him a glance or two. He was staring morosely out the window, or seemed to be. For all she knew he was surfing for porn in the privacy of his head. He looked tired though, bone tired, if such a thing was possible for a cyborg. Wanting to reach for him, but also wanting him to apologize for being such a dick to her, she wavered over what to do. On the one hand, he wanted to protect her, she _got_ that, but she a little girl anymore. They'd fought in a damned _war_ together! Why couldn't he just accept the fact that she occasionally knew what the fuck she was doing? She was tired of always being treated like a wet eared rookie who would be dead in a minute without his long-suffering intervention on her behalf. Nothing she _ever_ did seemed to please him! It just wasn't fair.

"You're heading up to medical for a once over." Briareos murmured at last as the vehicle pulled into the garage. It wasn't a question.

Deunan quelled an immediate mutinous impulse, nodding in grim acceptance. Just because she hadn't been dragged off to the hospital, didn't mean she didn't have another anti-toxin dose waiting for her. Probably they'd want to quarantine her clothing too.

Looking sideways at her partner, she suddenly wondered what the hell he was supposed to do. Would a simple shower and change be enough? Or would they send him over to the clinic to have his plates popped and his under systems professionally cleaned. Neither of them would probably be allowed within a 100 meters of the ESWAT locker rooms until given the ok by the doctors, so why did it sound like he had other plans? "Where are you going to be?"

"Clinic." He replied flatly. "Just dropping you off first."

"Bri-"

"It's- It's ok, girl." He sighed, sounding as defeated as she felt. "Just... I'll see you later."

"Want me to bring you a spare uniform?" She offered weakly. Wanting to do _something_, to show him if words weren't what he wanted, that she hadn't meant what she'd said. "Probably I can be there in an hour..."

"Don't trouble yourself." He nodded that they were stopped and that she was expected to get a move on. A pair of officers in filter masks were waiting on the platform, anticipating her arrival. "It's taken care of."

"Ok." Deunan climbed out, hugging herself worriedly as the car pulled away and left her behind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Promethean Blood - ch 7 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

First all but sandblasted free of her top layer of skin in the name of sterilization, and then tucked into a corner of the clinic with a nebulizer full of antitoxin and told wait for her lungs to mend; Deunan had more time than she liked to revisit her recent trend-of-fuckups as seen by her partner. Second guessing every choice, and conversation from the past 48 hours accomplished little other than to give her an early start on an ulcer. Deunan gave in at the two hour mark and asked for a sedative, knowing that she'd go crazy if required to sit and stew with her own thoughts much longer. Tired as she was, they could have just given her a shot of brandy instead of the pills and she'd have slept just as easily.

Two hours more and she was up again, given a firm warning about taking it easy before kicked out of the clinic to return to duty. The stack of reports was only marginally distracting from her worries. The office was too damned quiet for her tastes, especially without Briareos' familiar presence at his desk. Unable to bring herself to care about filling the ammunition tracing forms out in triplicate , Deunan staggered to the cafeteria for tea and a sugary snack, just to have _something_ positive to balance her day out with.

Really, she realized as she toyed with the slice of cake, what she wanted was someone to talk to about all the shit buzzing around in her head. Deunan had a hunch that if she could just get it all out... look at the situation impartially... somehow it would make more sense. Naturally, therefore, she found herself utterly alone for the first time in weeks on shift. Lance was too busy to debrief her in person. Magus and Sudoh were still laid up. Pani was on assignment, as were any other women she tended to hang out with. The crew from the shipwreck-op were around, but none of them knew her very well. Other than the relative good news that none of them were hurt, they didn't have much to say to each other.

Deunan reached for her phone in an attempt to catch up on her pathetic personal life. It felt particularly empty when Briareos wasn't around to distract her from the fact that she really had no friends outside of work. She paged through her personal messages from the last few days, trying to relax. Hitomi had sent her several notes, most of them just idle stuff, nothing time sensitive. Deunan reminded to herself to respond to the bioroid when she was in a better mood. Ditto for Yoshi, who'd texted her some random news about new updates available to her Gueges and one or two careful questions about progress on his missing submersibles. Poor guy, she figured, he still felt responsible somehow for the use they'd eventually been put too after falling into the black market. One of the detectives from upstairs had sent her a two line note saying that Scott was proving very cooperative in custody and asking when she would be free to swing by. Deunan rubbed her forehead, not wanting to deal with that particular headache in the making until after she'd talked with Briareos.

The rest of the notes amounted to some spam, some bills, and reminders for upcoming appointments. There were no messages at all from Briareos. She bit her lip, feeling like dirt for the hundredth time since their short and horrible fight. Why had she _said_ that? The question echoed round her head, no more answerable now than it had been the past dozen times. Sending him a quick text, just where she was, and asking for an update, she hesitated in just calling him. Probably he'd be pissed at the interruption for something so stupid as her worrying at him. She couldn't take him barking at her again.

Deunan closed her phone and fetched another tea, wondering whether she dared to ask Gaia to run a search on his com ID to reassure herself that he was still at the clinic and ok. Briareos would know she ran the search, she figured. Then he'd bark at her about why she didn't just call him if she wanted to know where he was... and then she'd have to admit that she was scared of annoying him by calling. Which would just _annoy him more_. She pressed her hands to her face and let out a groan of frustration over the whole thing. It was hopeless. All she could do at this point was leave him alone and hope he called _her_. She was reminded of the old cliché about the things you wanted to hold tightest to always being the things to slip away.

He'd as good as said he was done with her. Now that the frantic energy of their screaming match was done, she couldn't bring herself to remember the exact words, but the meaning had been perfectly clear. Deunan willed herself to stop thinking for a few hours. People often said stupid things when angry, hell, look at _her_. But if history was any predictor, her partner usually got _more_ honest when his temper goaded him to speak his mind. Meaner, sure, but honest at the same time.

It wasn't like Briareos ever told her what he was thinking or feeling when he was in control of himself. Always protecting her from everything, even himself, he'd just stew on whatever was annoying him, for months as needed, until he finally couldn't hold back from chewing on her. So where did that leave her?

Deunan was too proud to cry in the damned cafeteria where anyone could see. Collecting her dishes, she dropped them on the cart and decided to head up to one of the dormitories to catch another nap, or at least to have a proper breakdown in private. Briareos was done with her? It wasn't like it hadn't been a long time coming. Could she honestly blame him? The bigger question was, now that she knew the unwanted truth, what was she going to do about it? Living in denial about how things had changed between them since Olympus clearly wasn't working for either of them. But that left... what, exactly?

Deunan smacked herself in the forehead to cut off the feeling of defeat. She was just being tired and fatalistic, she told herself. Things would be better in the morning. They'd talk, she'd apologize for being wildly inappropriate when angry, he'd refuse to concede he'd done anything wrong in goading her in the first place, they'd get on with life-as-always.

Tapping in her code, Deunan was chagrined to realize that the computers had assigned her the same room as Briareos had collapsed in the day before. What were the odds? Still, it was clean and impersonal when she stepped inside. And best of all it had a door that locked, giving at least the illusion of privacy.

Deunan fell backwards onto the bed, feeling about a low as a girl could get. Even the perk of having her hair unglued without a buzz-cut, thanks to the nananite sterilization process at the clinic wasn't much to cheer over. Her scalp hurt as if some sadist had been deliberately pulling at each and every hair attached to her head. Kicking off her shoes, she curled up on the bed and hugged her knees to her chest. Briareos would have teased her for pouting, she figured, if he'd been there. But since he wasn't? She figured she'd earned a good solid sulk over her life after the week she'd had.

Putting in her headphones she shuffled through her music collection, hoping to find _something_ soothing to listen to. Settling on a compilation given to her by Dr. Zand, of all people, she let his eclectic collection of post-WWII pop music remind her of better times. She missed California, Deunan realized ruefully. She wanted to wind the clock back to when she was seventeen, and her biggest worry had been how to keep her father happy with her scores. Funny how hard she'd figured her life was back then. She'd spent so much time wishing to be grown up and thinking everything would be great when she was finally allowed to make her own choices. If only she'd known what she knew now? Deunan snorted in chagrin. She would trade with her past self in a heart beat.

Dr. Zand had funny tastes for such an old guy, she spared a thought for the weird cyberneticist who'd put her partner back together. The simple chirpy melodies and repeatable lyrics were out of character for the man she remembered, but it was hard to stay maudlin while listening to them. Feeling a little better, Deunan let fatigue got the better of her, drifting off between one song and the next.

* * *

She awoke feeling groggy with the sound of her phone ringing through the headphones still in her ears. Deunan blinked, patting the blankets sleepily for several seconds before realizing that Briareos couldn't get the phone for her, because he wasn't there.

"Geh." She mustered the will to follow the dangling cord to where the device had fallen from the bed, switching off her music so she could hear who was calling. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Tigress, or should I say good morning? What are you up to right now? Are you in bed? If so, are you naked?"

"Who?" Deunan blinked again, checking her watch as she tried to get her brain in gear. The temptation to hang up on the annoyance was almost irresistible. One am in the morning? She made a face to herself at the early hour. She'd gotten another solid nap at least. Her body felt marginally rested from the day's ordeals. On instinct her fingers paged through the recent call log and then the ESWAT alert bulletins. Apparently she hadn't missed anything urgent. It still took a very long couple of seconds to put a name with the teasing voice on the other end of her phone. "Sokak?"

"The one and only. Don't tell me you were sleeping, pretty kitty, I thought your type preferred hunting at night... Seems you're more of a house cat than a tiger... my my."

"Actually, tigers only hunt by night when nervous of interruption by other carnivores..." Deunan pointed out in her defense, more awake by the moment. Just went to show, having Briareos and his incredibly far-reaching collection of books laying around the apartment had been useful over their long years together. "They have more predator species to contend with during daylight hours. When confident in their domination of a habitat, they'll hunt or sleep any time they want."

"So you're saying you're comfortable that you're the top man-killer in Olympus?" The smooth cyborg teased. "I don't know, woman, you're good, but I can't say for certain that you _that_ good. How about coming out for a few hours tonight and proving me wrong?"

Deunan rolled her eyes, regretting that she'd ever given him her number during their flirting. She should have blocked him from dialing immediately after, or better yet, redirected all calls from him directly to his parole officer. But they'd wanted to keep the former mercenary on the hook, she belatedly remembered. Briareos hadn't even batted an eye at the idea of Sokak flirtatiously putting her on speed dial, agreeing that it was a good idea. So she couldn't exactly complain, when the jerk took her up on the offer. Still, if he wasn't going to dish on the terrorista-chicas, she wasn't really in the mood to play coy with him. Hell, even if he _was_, it was after midnight, and she'd been sound asleep!

"I have early-shift tomorrow, tough-guy. Tonight's not a great night for me." Deunan temporized, trying to think of some way to say 'no' without it coming across as a brush off. Not that it wasn't one. She just didn't want him to see it that way.

"Unless of course, there's something in it for me, huh?" She thought to add, realizing that he might be calling for an explicit reason other than to be a nuisance.

"I tried to be a gentleman, and called your partner first, but he's not responding." Sokak chuckled at her apathetic interest, sounding all together too gloating for a guy who wasn't sitting on some juicy gossip. "Figured, if he was too busy to play with us, well, more for _me_ you know?"

"More what, exactly?" Deunan couldn't help but smile at the guy's egoism. For Sokak? The world really _did_ resolve around Sokak. She had a suspicion she knew what he was edging towards, but she wondered if he would be ballsy enough to say it over the phone.

"Well..." The three-eyed cyborg wheedled on the other end of the call, "It just so happens, that I'm here at my favorite club... with a certain charming young lady of my acquaintance... and the two of us got to talking about you... and that hard-assed man of yours, and what can I say? She's all kinds of interested! She's begging to meet you both, in fact! But she'll understand, I'm sure, if only you're able to come... there's enough of me to keep even two foxy ladies like yourselves entertained, trust me."

"And can you describe this lady-friend of yours?" Deunan sat up, feeling the fresh surge of excitement recharging her tired muscles. Putting as much 'sultry' into her voice as she could, she hammed for his benefit. "I mean... I don't share a guy with just any girl... she's got to be something _I'd_ be willing to change teams for myself... And I'm _very_ picky."

"Oh you'll like this one." The mercenary chuckled. "You could say in fact, that she's the girl you've always been looking for."

"No kidding." She glanced at her watch again, estimating how long it would take her to muster some backup and get to the club for a take down. Briareos-gone-AWOL or not, this was too good an opportunity to miss. Sokak might not ever forgive her, but there was a warrant out for all three sisters, and if she could lead the sting to successfully bag one? It would be a real coup.

"Well... what can I say, I'm really tempted... It'll take me a few minutes to tear myself away. You know how it goes..." Deunan made a regretful noise. "And then I'll have to change into something... more _comfortable_. What kind of club are we talking about anyway? I mean... are people wearing nice suits and listening to cool jazz? Or is this someplace where a girl might work up a sweat?"

"Let's just say that less will definitely be more..." Sokak all but purred back at her. "I'll send you the address, shall I?"

"Do that." Deunan agreed with a playful hum. "I'll make sure to dress appropriately."

Hanging up the phone, she immediately dialed her partner. Deunan wished she felt surprised when it went straight to voice mail. Snarling in frustration at Briareos' continued stubbornness, she stepped into her shoes and dialed the department dispatchers instead. "Get me in contact with Officer 113. I don't care where he is. If he's not dead, he needs to check in. Now. Tell him that this is official business."

Crossing over to the console set up conveniently on the room's small desk, she typed up a a quick note to Lance, giving him the rundown on what was happening and asking permission to borrow some squad resources. Deunan planned her route across the city to her apartment to change, and then back in to the club district, while waiting for her dispatcher to call her back. She wondered if it would be easier to just go down a few floors to where the vice squad lurked in the basement and see if she could borrow some threads off of one of the off duty women. Showing up in a borrowed club-dress wouldn't set the right mood, she figured, resigned to the twenty minute detour to the apartment. It wasn't like the party would wind down anytime soon, and her backup would need time to gather and assess the area. So long as she sauntered in before 3AM, she'd probably catch Sokak and his girlfriend cuddled up in a booth somewhere.

A beep from her console proved that Lance at least was awake and aware of the situation. He was demanding more information, giving her the go ahead to proceed with the rendezvous. Deunan checked her phone, pleased to see that Sokak had not only texted her the name of the club, but also attached a photo. She opened it and smiled all the wider. The tiny image framed a three eyed cyborg with a gloating smile, lounging provocatively with a barely-dressed girl in a dimly lit booth. The girl looked to be pawing at the mercenary under the table, which probably explained the shit-eating-smile. One item of particular interest about his bar bunny? She had synthetic eyes with cat-style irises.

"I see you, baby." Deunan tisked the girl in the photo, recognizing her as a matter of course. Enyo was looking far more like her surveillance photos from the clubs of Paris than she did her forged drivers license supplied to Hobishi. "And damned if I'm not going to make you be mine..."

She forwarded the message to Lance, and for the hell of it, to Briareos as well. Probably if Sokak was bragging? He'd already sent the same damned picture to her tin-man to flaunt his catch, but if not? Let her partner chew on the idea that she was out with _them_ and pretend he didn't care anymore what she was up to... She'd steal a march on him while he was sulking, and prove once and for all that she had _earned_ her place in ESWAT, with or without him.

Deunan all but flew out of the dorm room and down to the parking garage, peeling out unrepentantly without her nagging partner there to chide about the wear on the tires. If this worked? And if Sokak was still talking to her afterwards? She might just owe the jackass that kiss he was angling for. The idea of Briareos fuming on the sidelines while she celebrated her arrest by smooching the mercenary a good one, only made the idea more fun.

* * *

Deunan was just getting dressed when her earpiece pinged to get her attention. Tapping it, she paused her humming in favor of reaching for her pair of boots. "This is 109. What's the status?"

"Where are you?" She felt her good mood immediately recede a notch at her partner's abrupt greeting.

"Uh. At home. But I'm about to go out again-" Deunan offered, not sure whether he was still pissed at her or not. She didn't have time for another fight, not if she wanted to get out the door before morning.

"...To 'Club Red'. I know. I checked in with Lance when I got your message." He proved that he knew the story.

She sighed, waiting for the inevitable scolding as she tightened the cinches and stood up, testing her footing in the high heeled footwear. It'd been a while since she'd worn them. Practicing a few steps across the bedroom floor, she was satisfied that she hadn't forgotten how to walk in the sexy getup after months of running around in combat boots. Posing in front of the mirror, she winked at her reflection. The catsuit was black and silver, done with stylized snakeskin pattern to the pleather cloth. Peep holes down her arms, chest and back allowed for a guy with a little imagination to get a good preview of the skin beneath without giving away her bruises the way her less risque dresses might have.

Sokak was going to wet himself, she figured.

The thought made her pause, wondering at herself. Once upon a time, it would have been her partner whose tongue she'd been hoping to see hanging out as she stalked through the crowd in a ridiculously slutty outfit. Not that his ever _had_, but god knew she'd tried. At best, she'd gotten a grudging admission of appreciation when they were in private. Usually she was obliged to rely on his enthusiasm in reaching for her in bed as a way of telling whether what she wore had any impact on him at all.

It was strange to realize that she _cared_ what Sokak, of all people, thought about her appearance. Maybe, she told herself grimly, it was because the mercenary probably _would_ react, unlike her own tin-man. Was it wrong to be gratified when a guy actually showed some interest in her? If Briareos didn't give a shit anymore, she might as well enjoy dressing up for _someone_.

"I was going to ask for backup on my way over... but Lance said you'd beaten me to it." Briareos continued, jarring her out of her worried preening. He sounded surprisingly calm about it, really, almost pleased. "He's slipping officers in a few at a time to pad the room for us, in event we need support. It looks like I'll be a few minutes ahead of you this time so I can finish the coordination for you. Just come on in. I take it you're dressing to make an impression on our favorite con-man?"

"Y-yeah." Deunan found herself standing at a loss in the center of their bedroom, torn between confusion and happiness at her cyborg's generally positive outlook on the whole scenario. She'd honestly expected him to chew on her head for minutes on end over taking the lead on capturing Enyo without his guidance. Instead? He seemed not only willing, but able to play along with her gambit.

"You're going to be there?" She pointed out the one flaw in his plan to join the op. "How're we going to play this? Last I talked to Sokak, I said I'd be coming alone."

Not eight hours ago they'd been avoiding each other like the plague after snapping at each other half the day, Deunan reminded herself, feeling as if she was almost talking to another person. What the hell had happened to him in the meantime that he was so reasonable _now_? Whatever it was, she hoped it held for another couple of hours. As much as she still had the petty urge to get back at him for earlier? The capture would be far less risky with him, than without.

"That's all you told him?" Briareos interrupted her train of thought.

"He said he couldn't get a hold of you. He didn't ask why, and I didn't volunteer anything." Deunan made a face. "I think he was kinda looking forward to getting me away from you for a few hours, honestly."

"He doesn't necessarily have to be disappointed." Briareos pointed out, musing aloud. "That is, if you don't mind running interference with him, for me. We play this right? He might not even realize that we've made off with his girlfriend. Just let him think that she and I have decided to get to know each other in private."

"And I'm supposed to just let you because?" Deunan grimaced, not liking the idea of Briareos alone with the potentially murderous, and admittedly gorgeous, cyborg girl. It jangled her still sensitive nerves to think that the first thing her partner wanted to do, now that they were talking like civilized people again, was to foist her on someone else. Just because he was now being nice about it, didn't mean he wasn't still tired of her, her cynical side unhelpfully pointed out. Deunan told her subconscious to shut the hell up.

"You know Sokak will follow your lead." Her partner pointed out, oblivious to her private worries. "Get him away from the girl and it'll be that much easier to capture her. We'll both pretend that we've had a blow-out with each other. It'll give you the perfect excuse to snub me and wiggle him out onto the dance floor. Or the nearest coatroom, whatever it takes."

Briareos ignored her stunned silence at the audacity of the plan as he continued his pitch. "While you're doing that... well, I can't boast my lines are all that smooth after this long without practice, but given a little time alone with the girl, I think I can manage to play the pity-me-my-girlfriend-is-with-that-moron angle enough to get her guard down. Then I can overload her system and get her out the backdoor and into ESWAT custody with Sokak none the wiser. I'll signal you when I'm clear, and you can play the part of pissed off girlfriend and storm out... we'll meet up back at HQ."

"Hitting a little close to home, ya think?" Deunan raised an eyebrow at his proposal, finding the strategy of 'pretend to be mad at your no good boyfriend and start hitting on someone else' to be playing it a little too much like reality for her tastes.

He dodged her barbed question, providing further coverage on his ad hoc plan. "If I can't sell the girl on sneaking out the back, we'll continue our initial plan from drinks the other night, and pretend to be game for a foursome. Let Sokak do the sweet talking for us. I'll make sure there's a seedy hotel all lined up and a squad ready to jump them both the minute we walk through the door. Unless you've got a plan you'd like to try instead? It's your op."

"No. No I like your plan just fine. It's just surprising is all. Briareos-the-swinger is a side to you I don't think I've ever seen before." Deunan couldn't help but joke, marveling at his calm and collected attitude toward the farce they were about to enact. He actually _wanted_ her to lure Sokak into a coatroom and keep the guy 'busy' while he went and cooly sucker-punched a gorgeous femme-fatale and snuck away? It was down right underhanded, especially for him.

"I don't swing." He disagreed blandly, sounding if anything, a little annoyed by his proposal. "Especially not for sociopaths. Don't underestimate Sokak either, girl. You know what he's capable of."

"I blew his sorry carcass up once." She reminded him. "I am perfectly willing to do it again, if need be. Ok. I'm en route."

Moving towards the door, Deunan belted on a coat to keep some semblance of dignity as she navigated the streets and eased into the car. She took care on her first few gear changes to remember that the pedals felt different in high heels.

"You're armed?" Her partner asked as she drove.

"A stunner." She agreed with a grimace at the lack of anything more hefty. "You have the right kind of clothes for this? Don't tell me you're showing up in uniform."

"I borrowed some stuff off a guy at the clinic. Don't worry about me. I could be wearing rags and they wouldn't give a shit. They'll be too busy staring at you." Briareos' almost-complement made her snort in amusement.

It was hard to comprehend how they'd been nearly at eachother's throats a few hours ago. She marveled silently at how easily their usual banter flowed between them. What the hell did it mean? She had no idea.

After a moment's pause he distracted her with, "Which boots are you wearing, by the way?"

"The black ones." She bit her cheek to keep from smiling at the question. "Why?"

"Just curious." Briareos didn't give her the pleasure of openly admitting he liked her choice.

Deunan rolled her eyes at his eternal caginess when it came to saying anything nice. At least the obliqueness was in character for him, unlike his recent mood swings and tendency to get angry about anything and everything. "Would you have preferred the red ones?"

"Wear whatever you like, hellcat. They're your boots. I'm closing in now..." He deftly avoided giving her anything like an answer, sounding as though he was about to hang up on her.

"Bri, wait-" She caught him before he could drop the line. "I just- about earlier..."

"We'll talk later." He offered softly. "Let's take care of this first, ok?"

"Yeah, sure. But Bri-"

"Leave it, girl."

"Are you... ok?" Even knowing it'd annoy him, she had to ask. Deunan bit her lip as she listened to the silence on the other end of the line. "I mean, you didn't come back to HQ, and you didn't call... and I- I got worried, is all."

"I'm fine, Deunan." He sighed, sounding chagrined. "It's embarrassing, but if it makes you feel better? The reason why I wasn't returning calls... was that I fell asleep while they were working on me at the clinic. Dead on my feet they said. It took someone from dispatch calling to convince the doctors to wake me up. Didn't mean to leave you hanging."

"Oh." She blinked, feeling stupidly relieved by the mundane explanation. Her dumb cyborg had konked-out on the workbench? It was... far less terrifying than anything she'd been inclined to imagine for the past several hours.

Just how much earlier than her had he gotten up? Knowing him? He may not have even bothered to sleep at all. Deunan bit her lip, unable to remember whether he'd been asleep when she'd passed out. Most likely not. And then he was awake before her too? In hind sight, she realized she ought to have paid more attention to that. With how much he'd been pushing himself lately? A bout of his reoccurring insomnia was not unheard of. Honestly, it would explain a lot. As much as she wanted to grill him about the revelation, now just wasn't the time. Deunan let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Oh. Ok. Well- Are you feeling rested, at least?"

"Honestly?" Briareos sighed. "No. I'm feeling pretty god damned rough. But I'll cope. Heading in now. See you in twenty, girl. Drive safe. Party won't start without you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Promethean Blood - ch 8 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Sokak hadn't been kidding when he'd described the club as 'roasting' over the phone. Deunan gasped in immediate shock as the bouncer waived her forward through the line. From the relatively cool pre-dawn chill of the street into the sweltering body-heat atmosphere of the dance floor, Deunan shrugged out of her coat in pure self-defense. Too many layers and a girl might pass out before even _finding_ the bar. It was that hot. The club was packed tight with dancers. She marveled at the energy of it all. It was loud. It was bright. The thumping of the base beats was strong enough to feel in her aching ribs. She was instantly in love with the place.

Deunan grinned and passed off her coat to a familiar looking attendant - was that 102 behind those shitty club-shades? - before stepping around the usual doorway crowds to get a real look at the scene. Young people gyrated happily under the twisting lights, a swaying mob of glitter, body paint, and clothing designed to fall off at the slightest provocation. By comparison, she was dressed positively matronly, Deunan shrugged in defeat as she squeezed her way towards the bar.

The appreciative looks she garnered from the flies she wedged between to place her order gave her a little confidence that she wasn't completely behind the times in her choice of club clothes. A guy who couldn't have been more than eighteen leaned toward her as she collected her drink and made her an offer that ought to have made her blush.

"Thanks but no, baby boy." She patted his cheek and grinned at his bravado. When had it happened? Deunan marveled at herself as she checked out the booths behind the bar, seeking her partner. Apparently in her years away from slumming at these sorts of clubs in LA she'd gone from one of the 'bunnies' to something more along the line of a cougar in the eyes of the seemingly ageless assortment of men who lived to dance the night away. At first Deunan felt a little old at the realization, and then, strangely proud. If she still looked good enough, at almost-thirty, and after a surviving a war, to have damned teenagers asking for a hookup? That wasn't too bad, now was it.

"To you left. You're almost on us." A whisper in her ear reminded her she should really take off her com-clip or swap it for something a little more discrete. "Christ, I forgot you owned that one..."

"You like it?" She murmured playfully for her partner's benefit. Flirty teenagers she could take or leave, getting an honest reaction from her partner was far more satisfying. For a moment it buoyed her spirits, making up for a lot of the stress she'd felt hours before.

Deunan chided herself for getting distracted and concentrated on the task at hand. If Briareos responded to her teasing, she didn't hear him. She slipped her com discretely from her ear and into her handbag. They'd have to do this one old-school she sighed at her stupidity. She hadn't thought to detour and pick up a 'wire' on her way in the door. Walking around with a police-radio clipped to her ear would _definitely_ give the game away, so she'd just have to do without. Maybe one of their support crew would slip her one during the night, she supposed, but really, she didn't think she'd need one with Briareos. They'd long since invented their own informal code for such occasions.

It took ducking around another group of chatting teenagers to see where he and the others were hiding. Crammed into a nook in the corner, Briareos and Sokak dominated the table between them, leaving the third member of their party a little dwarfed by comparison. Enyo was still lounging against Sokak, but it was clear from her body language that she was gunning for the cyborg sitting across from her instead.

Deunan was sorely tempted to come up behind her partner and stake her claim, just to remind the other woman of her place, but sadly that wasn't the con they were planning to run tonight. She let her eyes narrow a little as she inspected Briareos from where she stood, noting the incredibly ugly electric blue shirt, and baggy track pants he'd managed to scrounge from somewhere. It definitely wasn't a uniform, she gave him that much. That the borrowed gear made him look like a gigolo from a cheap porno? It was hard to say whether it was fashionable or not. She wanted to crack up laughing, honestly, and that was also not in character.

Sokak belatedly caught sight of her, hooting his delight as he toasted her arrival. Enyo glanced her way with lidded interest while her partner did a good interpretation of cringing at the news. Deunan let her hips sway more than usual as she closed the gap, claiming the last empty chair as her own and deliberately sliding it away from her cyborg in order to position herself closer to Sokak. Sitting with a smile for the three-eyed mercenary's benefit, she clinked her drink to his in merry toast. "Nice club, Sokak. How'd a guy like you get in the door?"

"Oh I'm a regular." Sokak boasted, chest puffing a little with pride as he preened under her inspection. "You like it? Any time you want to come, you just give me a call ok?"

"Sure" Deunan agreed. Turning to Enyo, she offered a fake smile, and got pretty much the same in return.

They were both evaluating the competition, she thought to herself. It was hard not to, given the circumstance. In person, the woman really _was_ a sex doll. The body simply too perfect to be remotely human. Her breasts alone were cartoonishly out of proportion to the rest of her, leaving Deunan to wonder exactly what material they were fabricated from to both defy gravity the way they were doing, and still 'feel right' to any gentleman who was inclined to get better acquainted with them. Hell, the girl could hide damned pistols in them, she mused. They were big enough. And the mod, while uncommon, wasn't unheard of amongst female-body-wearing cyborg assassins. When your spine was titanium instead of cartilage and bone, you didn't have to worry nearly so much about being top-heavy. Deunan still couldn't comprehend being able to fight effectively with the oversized accessories. Maybe they deflated in order to fit better under armor plate? There was an entertaining thought.

Letting her eyes drift to the rest of the cyborg's 'look' she felt marginally better about how well she measured up. Enyo's club-outfit wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. There wasn't much original about the deliberately frayed halter top and denim skirt. If not for her crazy curves, the choice of clothing wouldn't have rated a second look by the doormen weeding out the VIPs from the slouchers. Deunan mentally gave herself a point against the cyborg for at least picking a more flattering costume for the night.

"You must be Sokak's friend, Enyo, right?" She let her smile grow a little warmer, not intending to pick fights, at least, not yet. "You're absolutely _gorgeous_. But you probably know that already. Sokak wasn't kidding around when he said I had to meet you."

The blatant flattery did the trick. Smile growing wider as well, Enyo laughed and waved a cheerful hello, "He calls you his 'Tigress", I half expected you to show up with leopard spots..."

Deunan looked down at her faux snake-skin and shrugged, pretending chagrin. "It was in the wash, sorry. This'll have to do."

"It suits you." Enyo shrugged playfully, "You're really an 'all-natural' girl? That's amazing. You take really good care of yourself."

"I wouldn't say _all_ natural," Deunan matched smile for smile, leaning forward as if interested in the sprawled terrorist. "I've got my share of mods here and there... But I figure... might as well make the most of the original kit before laying out the cash for replacements, right?"

Looking towards Sokak, she tried not to wince at his ridiculous 'clubbing outfit', which seemed to comprise of leather shorts, suspenders and neon feathers glued at seemingly random intervals to the plates of his head and chest. Fashion in Olympus was truly incomprehensible some days.

"Besides," Deunan drawled, "I play my cards right, and a guy will pick up the tab for anything I want to upgrade anyway... And that's the _real_ way to do it."

"Totally." Enyo agreed. Proving her point she skulled the last of her drink and tapped the empty against Sokak's chest. "Still thirsty. Buy me another?"

"Uh, sure!" The cyborg abortively tried to flag a bartender with his arms half-blanketed by the girl, but Briareos beat him to it, collecting the empty along with his own.

"Let me do the honors. Same again?"

"I'll take another too." Deunan stated drily as she looked up at him. "Not even going to say hello?"

"I figured you still weren't talking to me." He matched her tone perfectly, finally looking down at her. "I had to hear it from _him_ that you were even coming tonight. Besides, you haven't finished the drink you have now."

"So?" Deunan rolled her eyes at him. "You owe me at least one drink after the shit you pulled today."

"What about what you owe _me_, hmm?" He pointed out before turning off to fetch the requested items.

Sokak was staring at her like she'd grown a second head. Deunan pouted for his benefit, deliberately propping her feet up on Briareos' empty chair. "Bastard. I am _so_ pissed at him right now."

Enyo laughed again, leaning forward on her elbows to commiserate. "What'd he do?"

"I cannot begin to tell you how much of an asshole he's been." Deunan confided without admitting anything in particular. "First he's texting and calling me all morning about things I'm doing wrong lately... just every five minutes with 'I told you so' and 'this is why you should always do as I say' and all that... and _then_, god damn but he's visiting with me on a break at work, and goes and rats me out to my fucking _boss_, like right to my face, about some stuff that... I may or may not have done... and I am just-"

She flicked her fingers in mock disgust. "Up to hear with him. I was so hoping he wouldn't show tonight. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a buzz-kill. Just- Gah. Insufferable prick."

"He doesn't seem that bad." Enyo grinned as she enjoyed the rant. "A bit of a stuffed shirt, maybe, but nothing too obnoxious. Give him another chance, maybe he'll make it up to you."

Deunan sighed in agreement, swirling the rest of her drink before skulling it in one long gulp. "Yeah you're right. We'll probably be making-out on the kitchen floor again by Wednesday, but for _tonight_? Whatever." Turning towards Sokak she offered a predatory smile. "How about you and me, huh?... Want to help me make him hideously jealous for a while? That'll teach him a lesson."

"There's just one problem with that." The mercenary agreed with a chuckle. "I don't want him to rip my arms off _because_ of said hideous jealousy."

"I'll pickup the repair tab." Deunan offered playfully, causing Enyo to laugh as well. Sokak gave them both a pitiful three-eyed stare as he looked between them.

"Go on, Sokak." Enyo proved an unexpected ally as she nudged her friend with an elbow. "Help the lady out... You've been talking about the fun you've been wanting to have with her half the night now... here she is, inviting you to make your move... and you chicken out?"

She tugged on one of the cyborg's decorative feathers. "Not sexy at all..."

"Maybe her invitation was for both of us..." Sokak offered, going so far as to catch the leg of Deunan's chair in order to drag her closer while still hanging on to the other cyborg in a one armed hug. "Two for me, none for him? That might be worth the beating I'll get later... You don't know what a humorless guy that four-eyes is, sweetheart."

"Oh now that just wouldn't be fair." Enyo disagreed, untangling from Sokak's grip in order to shift her chair away a little. "Besides, they say that a little jealousy is good for a relationship in both directions... So... if your Tiger-lily here is really serious about forgiving her man... she'll be extra motivated to be nice to him later if I'm the one being nice to him now. Right?"

Deunan found her self smiling and nodding in agreement with Enyo's plan even as warning bells went off in the back of her head. The cyborg wasn't just willing to go along with her proposed 'fling' but was actually and seriously aiming to get her claws into Briareos? What the hell lines had he been feeding the woman before she'd arrived? She wished to hell she had her earpiece attached after all. This was a turn of events that was a little too complicated to ask him about with something as subtle as a look.

"For tonight? I'll look the other way while he drools." She offered diplomatically, "But tomorrow... well, we'll have to see."

"Deal." Enyo gestured to where Sokak was still sitting stupidly, torn between patting himself on the back and being downtrodden at the negotiations taking place around him. "I'd warn you about his grabby hands, but I suspect you know about him already."

"I think he knows better than to play that game with me. He's seen my claws." Deunan smirked. Feeling just a little bit evil, she leaned sideways into Sokak's chest before offering her own advice. "If the big guy starts to bore you with stories about how great he is? Just go ahead and grope him a bit. That'll shut him up nice and quick."

"Good to know." Enyo toasted her merrily with an imaginary glass just as the man in question returned with drinks.

Briareos gave her a long look, letting her know that he'd overheard at least the last few bits of their exchange, and wasn't amused, before turning his attention to setting out the alcohol. There was one glass for each of them, a rare burst of generosity from her tin-man had even included Sokak in the top-up. Pulling his chair out from under her feet, Briareos ignored her noise of annoyance in order to preoccupy himself with asking Enyo a few innocuous questions.

Deunan remembered to not flinch when Sokak took the opportunity presented to drape his arms around her waist and tug her a little closer for a snuggle. She had all but draped herself on him after all, it was only natural that he accept the invitation offered.

"Hi." She looked over her shoulder at him, wondering just how she was supposed to 'keep him busy' without wanting to punch him in the face for getting too grabby. "How'd you spend _your_ day? Do anything fun?"

"Sat around, unemployed, not being a menace to my community. You? Catch any good mice?"

"You know I don't like talking about work around strangers." Deunan smirked up at him. Reaching back she tapped the oddly shaped cyborg's chin guard. "Naughty boy."

"I may have failed to mention what you both do for a living, by the way." Sokak nuzzled her ear as he murmured a gratifying bit of trivia to her in relative privacy. "Figured, we didn't want her unfairly prejudiced against getting to know you better."

"She's in your line of work then." Deunan allowed his pawing to continue, only shifting his hands when they dared to stray a little too far south too fast. "Figured as much. Kits that good don't come cheap."

"She's a good girl at heart. Likes to have fun, lets bygones be bygones..." He sighed in acknowledgment. "Much more mellow than her sisters."

"A little less forgiving, when you fool around on them, are they?" Deunan caught one of his hands when it shifted south again, distracting him by kissing his palm and snuggling it around her waist. "I'm sure you deserved it, whatever they threatened you with. You're a total ass when it comes to women, Sokak."

"Not fair! I'm a perfect gentleman. Speaking of which, do you want to dance, Tigress?" Sokak suddenly asked, seemingly out of the blue.

She blinked, distracted from her silent planning by the question. Turning in his grip, she looked up at him to see if he was joking. It was a rare cyborg who boasted of the ability, especially the full body ones. Most of them just didn't have the coordination for feeling comfortable moving through dense crowds. Briareos usually begged off citing his worries about stepping on her by accident, but she suspected it was a bit of a cop out. He was too good for such a mistake, he just didn't want to be made a spectacle of on the dance floor. Sadly she didn't know Sokak's expressions well enough yet to be sure she was reading him right. "You dance, bright-eyes?"

"Of course." He looked perfectly smug. "You telling me that big bucket of bolts over there can't even manage that? And here I've been all intimidated for nothing..."

Deunan laughed as Briareos finally looked their direction, extendibles dipping backwards in silent annoyance at the sight of them cuddling. Her partner sighed. "Maybe I just don't agree with your style of club-dancing, hellcat. Making out in the middle of the floor while these idiots heckle isn't my idea of a good time."

"What _is_ your idea of a good time.?" Enyo barely let him finish his gripe before jumping on the conversation, redirecting it where she clearly wanted it to go.

Deunan noted that the girl was steadily inching closer to Briareos, and would soon likely be in his lap if he wasn't careful. Or maybe that was what he wanted? There was no way to tell. She sighed in annoyance at the parameters of their subterfuge. With any other guy, she'd take the scenario as a carte blanche to mess around right under her nose and get away with it, but Briareos had sounded genuinely annoyed with the plan he'd pitched to her. And really, Deunan really couldn't see a woman like Enyo being his type. Not that she considered herself more than normally intelligent, but by comparison with how the cyborg was acting? She was MENSA material.

Resigned to keeping up her end of the bargain, Deunan decided she'd play it by the book even if he wasn't going to. She just hoped to hell that he was still in the rational frame of mind he'd seemed to be when he'd called, and that he wasn't having too much fun with the play acting. The point was to arrest the woman, not make out with her all night. Deunan peeled herself out of Sokak's grip in order to stand up, turning to face him with a teasing-expression. "Bright-eyes, I would _love_ to dance with you. Let's ignore this idiot and go have have some fun."

Turning back to Briareos, she fixed him with a glare that was only half faked. "As for you. _When_ you're ready to come crawling back and apologize? You'll know where to find me."

"Deedee." The unusual nickname caught her after she'd turned her back on him, tugging Sokak out of his seat to join her. Deunan froze and looked over her shoulder at Briareos, remembering as she did, that she should probably look bored more than surprised. That wasn't a name he called her often, or really, ever. It was something her father had used, once in a blue moon, usually to get her attention in situations where he needed to shock her into paying attention to what he was about to say.

Asking Briareos what he meant by it was impossible to do, but the signal was loud and clear. He wanted her to 'listen'? Fine, she was all ears. She raised an eyebrow in mock annoyance at being held up. Briareos jerked his chin towards the crowd. "Mind your manners out there tonight. I know you. There are some tough customers in here. No starting fights you can't finish, you read me?"

"Whatever. Spoil sport." She dismissed his warning with a sniff, tugging a willing Sokak along with her as she left the table behind. It wasn't until they were into the mix of people at the edge of the main dance floor that she let herself drop the facade of being in a snit and really looked at the faces and bodies pressed all around her. For him to have said _that_ meant that he'd seen something that was worrying enough to draw her attention to.

Was it when he'd first walked in? If so, he'd have mentioned it to her before she stepped through the door.

Then when? While they'd been chatting?

Deunan felt suddenly cold, realizing that he'd not just been fetching drinks, but likely running a quick sweep. Her partner had spotted something suspect while she'd been buttering up Sokak, and then gone to confirm it? It made a grim sort of sense. It was after she'd taken her earpiece out.

Probably that hard-stare of his on return wasn't just a pretended snub, he was trying to tell her something and she'd missed the cue. Damn it! She hated playing games at times like this. They weren't any where near 'syched' enough tonight to do their usual nonverbal exchanges well.

Who had he seen?

Deunan let Sokak sweep her into a quick tempo-ed dance that seemed to consist mostly of them bouncing in place in mock seduction. She kept her eyes on the crowd, scanning each corner in turn and then the upper balconies as she twisted and shimmied. She didn't have a database uplink in her head the way her partner did, but she did have a good memory for faces. It was one of the few things her old man had ever complimented her on during training. If she someone once, and she'd recognize them again later, sometimes even when disguised. Not that she could always put a _name_ to the face, but given a minute to think? She'd know where and roughly when she'd seen them last.

"I love this DJ." Sokak remarked as he settled his hands on her hips again, distracting her from her latest scan. Deunan smiled and nodded in agreement, refusing to be drawn into conversation just yet.

It didn't help that the club was _full_ of familiar faces. She spotted at least twenty guys that she _knew_ were in SWAT or ESWAT. A whole crew of them were drinking at the bar and chatting up girls. Probably Lance had asked for volunteers from the local squads and had gotten a landslide of folks willing to go undercover at a trendy club. Paid to party? She wanted to smack them and tell them to _pay attention_ but it didn't matter. Even if they were tracking someone, they wouldn't be stupid enough to give themselves away by staring at their target, or at her, in any obvious way.

Deunan's eye caught again, and she nearly dismissed it as a matter of course, but then paused and really looked, using the excuse of grinding a little against the cyborg behind her as she got her bearings. By the secondary bar on the mezzanine, mixed amongst the usual crowd of women chatting and hunting for dates, was an unusually tall female cyborg dressed in a tracksuit. Unlike the rest of the girls around her, she didn't look like she was having fun. Instead she watched the room with a cool and calculating expression. It took another shimmy and discrete stare, but Deunan was soon convinced. The woman had cat eyes.

She swore silently to herself.

Where there were two? There almost _had_ to be three. Suddenly, she felt a lot less confident about their chances of capturing one, or any of the so-called-sisters. The heat and crowd within the club felt distinctly claustrophobic.

Deunan turned in Sokak's arms, and spared a thought to acknowledge that he really _did_ know how to dance, if only in a stylish shuffle. Draping her arms around his shoulders, she was grateful that while broad shouldered, he wasn't nearly as tall as Briareos was, there was no way she could have had a discrete conversation with her tin-man on the dance floor short of heaving herself onto his shoulders to press her lips to his ear. With Sokak, it only took a short tug for him to tilt his face to hear her better. "How well do you know Enyo's sisters?"

The cyborg's hands tensed briefly on her hips before sliding upwards to a considerably more polite grip on her waist. "You never intended to do a threesome, did you..."

Credit where credit was due. The mercenary was nobody's fool, despite his act. Deunan pulled back enough to give him a measuring look, both of them dancing more for the form of it than out of any further interest. He didn't _look_ like a guy who was about to throw her under the bus, but then, he didn't look like a guy who'd blow up an army base full of people either, and she'd _seen_ his rap sheet. "Don't take it personally, bright-eyes. I find you fun to hang out with... But your girlfriend is serious trouble. You know that right?"

"Aren't we all..."

"You mixed up with her game? Or was it just a chance meeting?"

Sokak laughed at that. "You're the one who told me she was in town, Tigress... And no, she hasn't told me anything juicy yet, although for the right price..."

"For the right price, you'd sell your own mother, Sokak." Deunan scolded the cyborg. "Be serious. What the hell are the other two doing here?"

"What other-"

"Second floor balcony, over my right shoulder, mixed in with the bunnies. She's not even trying to hide, really. That's not cool, Sokak..."

"Oh shit." The cyborg seemed genuinely surprised when he looked the direction she'd hinted at. Suddenly he was a lot more focused on their dancing, resuming his earlier groping and cuddling with conscious effort. "That is _not_ something that a man with an armful of beautiful woman and mischief on his mind needs to _see_, I tell you... Christ, I nearly gave myself a heart attack..."

"That's one of them, isn't it? She looked pissed about something." Deunan agreed. "Better hope it's not you. Time to fess up, Sokak, have you sold me out? I can be a forgiving woman, up to a point, but now's the time to come clean or believe me..."

"I'm just a bystander. I swear." The mercenary raised his hands in self defense at her accusation. Deunan laced her fingers with his in order to continue their dance, working it into their general routine.

"Fair enough." For good or ill, she believed him. Sokak was an out-and-out crook, but to be fair, he had a history of being a surprisingly honest one. In a way, he reminded her of Scott. Deunan pushed aside that added complication in her private life for a later time when she wasn't juggling three potential terrorists in a crowded bar. Try as she might, she couldn't spot the third sister. That made her especially nervous.

The beginnings of an idea were beginning to form in her head, something about Enyo's eagerness for her to settle on Sokak, the way Agara just seemed to be _waiting_. It bothered her more as she thought about it. "Sokak, are you sure Enyo doesn't know Briareos is a cop?"

"If she does, she didn't get it from me." Sokak agreed firmly. "It's bad for _my_ reputation too, you know. Consorting with the likes of you two...? I'm supposed to hate pigs... no offense."

"None taken." Deunan smiled grimly.

It occurred to her, as simple as anything, that Enyo had wanted _her_ out of the way with Sokak just as much as Briareos had wanted _Sokak_ out of the way with _her_. Deunan blinked, feeling shocked with how obvious it seemed in hindsight. The woman wanted to get Briareos alone. Somehow, some way, she was gunning for him in more than just the romantic sense... But for what? To abduct him? Kill him? Strip him for parts?

It was the last that made her blood run cold. Enyo and her sisters wouldn't be the first cyborgs to try and 'scalp' her partner's H-system out of him over the years, and they probably wouldn't be the last. Not while the fabled Hecatonchires AI remained the must-have-accessory of the decade to anarchists world-wide. Whatever the reason, Deunan was convinced that her instincts weren't wrong. The terrible trio of sisters were pulling the exact same con that she and Briareos had been setting up. It was just a question of who would get their prey out the back door first, and who would be there waiting to greet them. Turning to look Sokak in the eyes, she jerked her chin towards the table. "Let's go back, huh? Suddenly I'm thinking... I don't feel so much like dancing."

"You sure that's a good idea?" The cyborg matched her look with a steady one of his own. "Front door's a lot closer. You and me, we can still have a fun night. Let those two sort themselves out. I'm not blind. Now that I'm looking, I'm betting this place is stacked to the roof with your paramilitary buddies. He doesn't need you sticking your neck out for him. He'll be fine."

"Sorry, Sokak. I can't do that."

"Bet the two of you weren't even really fighting." He sighed, expression hangdog. "Bet this was all one big setup for poor ol'Sokak. Here I was thinking this was my lucky night..."

"No, we were definitely fighting." Deunan snorted at not even needing to lie to make the man feel better. "And don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed at him. But he's my partner. I can't let him walk into this solo. It's not my style."

"500 credits and a quickie later? And I'll be your backup for the night." The mercenary offered a bargain. "I figure, you have to like me a little, or you wouldn't have gotten dolled up to come see me, right? You'd have just kicked the door in and popped smoke... Besides, Agara is a total bitch. I'd love to see your goons wipe the floor with her."

"How about I cover your tab, give you a kiss, and you hand over the weapon I'm betting you've got concealed on you someplace. Then I'll look the other way while you call it an early night here and go test your ability to pull on the cute girls at the club down the road." She counter-offered with a smirk. "That's my final offer, and only because I like your feathers."

"You do?" Sokak perked up. "Enyo laughed at them."

"Take it or leave it." Deunan reminded him that time was against them.

"Done. You got your handbag on you? This one is small, but it packs quite a wallop."

Deunan watched him slip the small bit of tech into her bag with a raised eyebrow. It looked like some sort of practical joke-ring. "That's not a gun. What is it, some kind of stunner?"

"Something like that." Sokak agreed cheerfully. "I didn't come packing for a _fight_, Tigress, although in hindsight, knowing I was meeting _you_... that was sure stupid of me. But trust me, you zap someone with that? And cyborg or human, they'll be on the floor for a good while before they get up again."

The phrase 'something like that' didn't leave her feeling particularly encouraged about her odds of surviving the next half hour, but hell, having two stunners was better than just the one she'd brought with her. There just wasn't anyplace to _hide_ something like a shotgun in her current getup. That just left the matter of payment. Deunan eyed him speculatively. Transferring the tab was simple enough to do discretely, as was the kiss, in theory. But how was he to just saunter out of the club without tipping off Briareos, or the sisters, or worse, scooped up by ESWAT's dragnet waiting outside?

Sokak seemed to read her speculative glance towards the door. "I take it the back exit's probably crawling with your militant friends?" He drawled playfully. "And you of course, with no way to let them know to let me out safe and sound... Why is it I always get the worse end of any deal I make with you, Tigress?"

"It's because your karma is bad," Deunan offered absently, still considering her options. "You need to live a better life, Sokak. You've got the brains to make it on the up-and-up, and you're a likeable guy. Why do you persist in thinking you're better off as a crook?"

"Because being good is so damned boring." He sighed. "Fair's fair, woman. I gave you what I've got. You keep up your end of the bargain and get me out of here already. One more parole violation and it's re-indoctrination for me... And that shit creeps me out."

"Let's go up to the table," Deunan decided at last. "I'll distract Enyo, you tell Briareos about our agreement, and he can call ahead of you to get you through the cordon before any feathers hit the fan."

"He'll believe me?"

"I think so." Deunan frowned, hoping her partner was smart enough to recognize her abrupt stepping-up of their time table. Their old plan hadn't accounted for an organized resistance and she really didn't want to give the sisters a chance to steal a march on her. Or worse, steal her man. He'd be safe enough, she figured, if he stayed at the table. But if he tried to lure Enyo out the back, she could imagine it getting nasty quick. "Do your self a favor when you talk to him, and don't mention the kiss part."

"Got it." Squiring her like a proper gentleman, Sokak cheerfully lead the way through the crush of the dance floor back to where they'd left the other two alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Promethean Blood - ch 9 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Sure enough, Enyo was melded against her partner's chest, when Sokak finally lead her to the table. Thankfully, for Deunan's blood pressure, the cyborg woman wasn't in his _lap_ yet, but they were definitely well past the 'let's have a friendly chat' phase of the evening.

"Enyo, I've had an absolutely _inspired_ idea... but I'll need your help with it! Can I borrow you a moment?" Deunan decided to not be pissed at how far Briareos had encouraged the girl. The succubi had the grace to look a little caught-out as she pulled away from her prey.

"There a problem?" Briareos drawled, looking up at her as if trying to guess the meaning of her interruption

She tisked him playfully hoping he'd catch on fast enough to be of use, "Not at all. Sokak and I have just come up with something truly _naughty_ for us to try tonight. But I'll need to borrow Enyo for a minute... you know... for a girl chat. You'll excuse us, won't you? Be back in five." She blew a kiss at him. Catching the pretty cyborg by the wrist, Deunan didn't let the woman have an opportunity to resist. Tugging her to her feet and pulling her towards the bathroom, she made good her friendly abduction before the terrorist could disagree. "Come on, honey, you're going to _love_ this."

"Ok... but I have to say... I was loving _that_ too..." Enyo followed gamely enough, but spared a playful wave back at where Briareos was watching their retreat.

Deunan grinned in chagrin to herself as she lead the way. Just her luck, her boyfriend was the one all the psychopaths went weak in the knees for. She laughed with good humor she didn't particularly feel. "Oh there'll be more of that later! Don't you worry! First, there's something we absolutely have to discuss."

There was no line at the ladies-room. That alone was enough to get Deunan's hackles up. A club this popular? There was _always_ a line. Looking discretely to her right, she spotted two familiar looking guys lurking in the shadows. They were carefully not watching her as she approached until she was right along side of them. One gave her a discrete nod in passing. She felt a moment of pure vindication at the way her ad hoc crew had anticipated her. Had Briareos guessed her plan and passed it around? Or were these two planted earlier in expectation of being _his_ backup when it came time to do the deed? Either way, they were ready for her alert.

She winked jauntily back at them. Even with the sense that the clock was now ticking, Deunan couldn't help but hope that the plan might go _right_ for a change.

The bathroom was also freakishly empty. She discretely checked for feet under the stall doors as she washed her hands at the sink. The guys must have cleared it, somehow. She wondered what excuse they'd used, purely from the anecdotal standpoint. She'd had to concoct and excuse or two of her own over the years. However they'd done it, on virtually no-notice too, they'd provided the perfect cover for her. Without the chattering mob of women usually filling the closet sized room to distract from it, the club's base beat all but thrummed in the confined space. Deunan tapped her toes as she psyched herself for what would come next, unable to help it.

"He seems... pretty territorial about you, you know." Enyo did her the favor of breaking the ice. The woman fished around in her handbag before eventually coming up with a tube of lipstick. Applying it liberally, she blessedly overlooked Deunan's reflexive flinch when her hands ducked momentarily sight. "Couldn't take his eyes off of you and Sokak..."

"Really? That wasn't very polite of him. I figured he would be happily mooning after _you_." Deunan protested playfully. "You saying he wasn't interested at all? Because it seemed to me you too were getting rather cozy!"

"We were warming to each other, yes." Enyo smirked, checking carefully on the rest of her makeup. "But I don't think you need to worry much, long term. Once he's had a bit of a break to blow off steam? He'll probably come crawling back. His kind always do."

It was surreal to be given love advice from someone she was plotting to shanghai out of the back of a nightclub and into federal custody, Deunan forbid herself from rolling her eyes as she hummed in agreement.

"Well don't play too rough with him." She babbled cheerfully as she scoped out the room for potential weapons and defenses. "He's not under warranty anymore, and for some reason his parts are always that much more expensive than other peoples..."

"Isn't that always the way." The female cyborg agreed bored with Deunan's continued primping, focused instead on artfully rearranging her wild hair. Deunan palmed her earpiece, and her stunner, from her bag, slipping Sokak's spare mystery-weapon onto her ring finger as a backup. Sliding her com in place as if it was just another piece of jewelery, she fluffed her hair for good measure.

"Tell me something, blondie." Enyo pouted at her reflection. "Would you say it's like... lovey-dovey between you two? Or just a matter of convenience? I mean, come on, it's a bit far fetched don't you think? An all-natural girl like you and a factory-second guy like that... There has to be an angle. This some kind of fetish for you?"

Deunan blinked at the suddenly serious question from the unlikely source. "Uh, I can't say I'm following you... You're asking why we're together?"

"'Well yeah." The long haired cyborg studied her in the mirror. "Cuz the two of you? Just don't make sense to me. And honestly, I'm kinda curious to know... just how much loverboy's heart is going to be broken when he finds you in here later with your neck broken." Lunging sideways, the scantily clad cyborg made her move at last.

Even having anticipated it, Deunan was grimly impressed, as always, at how quick the fully artificial body could move. Lots of strength, but no finesse, Enyo's fist grazed her cheek as she dodged. Deunan drove her elbow into the woman's back as she fell out of the danger zone, forcing the cyborg off balance instead. Enyo swore loudly, unable to pull her punch to catch herself as she fell forward into the sink and mirror. A point in Deunan's favor, she smirked to herself as she scrambled. The cyorg definitely hadn't been expecting the counter strike.

Deunan gripped an adjacent sink for leverage, hauling herself to her feet. Ripping the flimsy soap dispenser off the wall, she mentally cursed herself for not being faster as she anticipated Enyo's next move. Bringing her newly acquired weapon down in the same smooth arc, she smashed it across the woman's face as she turned to attack. The dispenser disintegrated on contact, unable to even scratch the artificial skin as it shattered. It did however, puncture the bag of sanitizer in several places. An arc of pink gel soap splashed out and across Enyo's head and chest, causing the cyborg to wince and cringe.

Artificial eyes might not tear up with the introduction of the soap, but nor could they clean themselves quickly of the slimy film. Effectively blinded, Enyo staggered back, her second punch going wide as she found she couldn't focus. She wiped at her face in a futile attempt to see. "You bitch! You'll pay for that!"

"Not if you do first." Deunan dared to grab hold of the woman while she was dazed, twisting her sharply and slamming her downwards, kicking her feet out from under her at the same time. Enyo dropped as well as any lighter woman might at the attack, but instead of concussing herself on the edge of the sink, she broke right through it.

"109 requesting backup for target suppression and removal. " She activated her earpiece by nudging it with her shoulder, hands too busy in keeping Enyo's head down, and the borg nominally subdued as she struggled to not lose her incredibly slim advantage. If the terrorist managed to stand up again? It'd probably all be over. Hell, if she managed to clear her head enough to _use_ it for a second, Deunan grimly realized the 'borg might break her legs from the angle she was currently struggling against her.

Better to take the 'borg down hard than to risk her own neck. Her cynical side sounded as Briareos-like as ever.

"On it." Briareos responded on her private line, a welcome addition to any party, she mused breathlessly to herself.

Out maneuvered and thrown off as Enyo managed to coordinate enough to lunge, Deunan marveled as the girl casually smashed the basin of another sink, reducing it to bits of gravel as she snarled in annoyance. There was no point even trying to dodge her next pounce. Deunan pretended to quail, nominally defending her head from the possibility that the terrorist wouldn't want to gloat before the kill. Thankfully the woman wanted to savor the moment, Enyo didn't go for her neck immediately, but chose to straddle her instead to grin at her victory.

"I don't know who, or what you are honey. But you're a lot more fun than I took you for." The cyborg leered down at her. "Shame about you being in the way and all. We could have had a good time!"

Gloating while your opponent was still alive was almost always a stupid thing to do, Deunan figured. Flipping the safety off her stun-gun, she jammed it into the soft tissue of the cyborg's side, piercing the synth-skin and hitting the metal of the concealed circuitry underneath. She pressed the trigger with a feeling of pure vindication, discharging a full band shock to the woman's vulnerable hardware.

Full bodied as she was, Enyo went into immediate convulsions when the current hit. A moment of pained thrashing, thankfully none of which specifically aimed at Deunan, and the woman hit the floor, several critical fuses blown.

Deunan panted in relief, ignoring the fresh damage done to the room, and the scent of burnt rubber rising from Enyo's main servos in favor of untangling her self from their heap on the floor. The place where the taser had pierced was oozing something that was probably just skin-plumping fluid, but looked uncannily like a cross between white paste-glue and blood. Checking her nausea, Deunan pulled the coil of micro cable she'd stored in her handbag out and began lashing Enyo's wrists and ankles together.

She wished she had the nerve to try and wrench off the terrorist's service panel and make a more thorough job of it. Sadly those sorts of interfaces were usually sealed with medical grade tech, which cops, even in ESWAT, didn't get access to lightly. She was tip-toing dangerously close to a cyborg-rights-violation as it was with the taser alone. Pulling fuses out of the girl would definitely get her a write up, no matter how effective the tactic.

Still, Enyo wasn't going anywhere under her own power for a while, with any luck. Either they'd need to contrive some way to evacuate the throng outside so they wouldn't know what had happened, she mused, or she'd have to ad lib something to hide the woman in that could be wheeled out in full view. Her eyes slid towards the bathroom's utility closet as she got the beginnings of an idea.

On catching her breath, Deunan nudged her radio again. "109 to HQ, package is wrapped. Women's bathroom ground floor." Toggling channels, she tried to hail Briareos. "You missed a great girl-fight, old man. What's the hold up? I could have really used your muscle just now... "

"I h-" The rest of his reply was garbled by a massive crash. Loud enough that she could hear it both with her radio and through the bathroom door. Deunan cringed on instinct, wondering what the hell had happened.

"Bri?" Suddenly it occurred to her, that generally angry with her or not, if he wasn't _with_ her for a fight like this? That meant there was something _worse_ happening outside.

" -er stay put, g-." His fractured reply, coming through between the chaos of the suddenly swamped radio channel made a hell of a lot of sense.

Another crash and she heard their private channel go dead. The general channel was abruptly flooded with not only noises of destruction, but a full chorus of requests for backup and alerts of injuries. Deunan only barely grasped the gist of what had happened. Something about part of the club roof collapsing? She weighed her options of sitting tight as her partner probably wanted, and risking the chance of having a wall collapse on her like an idiot, against trying to drag herself, and her capture, out the back while everyone else was distracted.

The odds were in favor of just sitting on the woman and waiting for rescue. Deunan sighed at obvious choice. It was low on romance and high on practicality. Her instincts screamed for her to forget the cyber-succubus and get back to the club to help.

The lights flickered as a third crash shook the walls and floor, Deunan swore to herself at her luck. Suddenly she really wished she'd thought of some way to smuggle in a gun, or some armor, _anything_ that might be of use if the battle decided to come to her while she was stupidly waiting.

"What the hell happened here?"

An unexpected voice behind her gave Deunan warning that her paranoia, like always, was turning out to be right. She turned toward the voice, grimly amused at the predictability of it all. A tall amazon of a cyborg stood at the door, hands bloodied to the wrist as she blocked the only way out of the tiled room. "What are you, _another_ cop? Is _everyone_ in this f'ing club tonight one of you people? Damn! And here I thought you, at least, were just one of Sokak's little playmates..."

"You must be Agara." Deunan sighed, feeling strangely calm to be staring her likely death in the face. Even with an exo, taking on a trained-cyborg solo wasn't smart.

Judging by the blood already coating the woman's hands, she suspected her teammates guarding the door were no longer able to back her up. Reaching up, she tapped her earpiece once more on the off chance anyone would respond. "109 requesting EMT support. First floor, women's lavatory, multiple-officers down. 113 if you can hear me, I've found sister-number-two... Kidding aside, old man, I could really use you."

Agara leaped forward with a devilish grin, practically a mirror of her sister's leaving Deunan no time to counter, or to even hear whether support was on the way.

The first fight had been in her favor due to the 'element of surprise', and the fact that Enyo was an idiot. Deunan ducked and dove out of the way of Agara's first hits with only minor success, getting kicked to the side for her effort, and damned near breaking something as she bounced off a toilet-stall door. The only thing that was truly to her advantage this time, she figured, was that the bathroom was just so damned small. Agara simply couldn't maneuver to her full potential for lack of elbow room.

Like most trendy nightclubs, this one had stupidly designed the ladies' washroom to have only three stalls. Meaning any girl stupid enough to need to go after one too many drinks was left standing in line for half the night, or be obliged to use the alley. Deunan had cursed at many a club in her youth for such poor planning. But watching her opponent over compensate in her anger, only to smash her fist _through_ the stall door instead of knock it aside, she had to admit, the cramped space suddenly suited her just fine.

The wild-haired cyborg ripped her fist free of the door, pulling it off it's hinges in the process, and swung again. Deunan used the broken barrier to her advantage, sliding out of Agara's reach and beneath the wall of the adjacent stall door as she dodged. Heaving herself up onto the toilet and bracing against it with her hands, just as her opponent shifted to find her, Deunan kicked with both feet, propelling the door outwards, and into the new cyborg's face with all the force she could muster.

Staggering sideways, Agara tripped over her sister and collapsed into the next tiny cubicle with a startled curse and splash of water. There was no time to laugh at the innate comedy of having to brawl with her second cyborg in so many minutes in the rather inelegant setting. It was most definitely kill or be killed now.

Deunan charged back into the narrow alley in front of the stalls while the woman was still struggling to free herself from her predicament. In her fall, Agara's elbow had shattered the porcelain bowl of the john in the last stall, causing a small flood of water to erupt across her, and the dingy tile. The room was now tiny _and_ slippery. Deunan grabbed hold of the various broken bits of plumbing and wasn't above stepping _on_ Enyo in order to navigate the tile without doing the crook the favor of breaking her own neck.

"- Deunan, you alive?" Briareos' worried voice in her ear caught her attention briefly.

"For the moment," she offered back. "I could really use you, if you could spare a sec!"

Not able to give him more attention than that, she concentrated on saving her own neck, on the off chance he'd be late. Kicking the closet door open, she got a grip on the requisite mop handle just as Agara's hands closed around her waist, easily picking her up and throwing her against the mirrored wall. Enyo's sister might _look_ nominally like her but there the similarities stopped. Agara's body was curvacious but not at all soft. The synth-skin was more akin to what Briareos wore, molded to look and move like human limbs, but very definitely made of metal under the paint. Every time they made contact, Deunan was sure the woman was leaving bruises.

Her ribs complained bitterly at the hard landing, reminding her, as if she needed it, that she wasn't in top-shape to be playing games like this. Not that being in full health would have helped much, Deunan figured. She hissed and momentarily lost her focus at the sharp pain. Luck, as well as simple physics allowed her stave off death a little longer. In bouncing off the tile, Deunan managed to get the sturdy metal pole of her mop in position in time to block the attack she wasn't yet able to see. Jabbing forward as the cyborg lunged downwards, Deunan caught Agara square in the face with the unlikely prop. If the woman had been human, it probably would have broke her nose or worse. As it was, the tip of the pole skittered across her reinforced skull and lodged in her eye socket with a satisfying 'crunch'.

Deunan kicked the other end of the mop out sideways, letting it fall away now that its damage had been done. Agara crashed to the floor along with it, momentarily stunned from the loss of one of her optics. Scrabbling forwards, Deunan tried to make the most of the moment, twisting the pole between the woman's soaked shirt, and the remains of the bathroom stalls, effectively pinning one arm behind her back, and her entire torso at an odd angle against the floor.

She didn't imagine it would slow the cyborg down for long. Deunan dove for the door on the off chance that she might lead the cyborg out and into less favorable field of combat. Her stamina wasn't going to hold out much longer, and she wasn't too proud to admit she was outclassed.

Agara untangled herself before Deunan could make it even half the distance, mangled but still perfectly able to attack again. Deunan didn't even have time to see the hit that came. In a breath she was on the floor, impossibly strong fingers closing around her throat as they sought to crush the life out of her. Scrabbling blindly as she felt her windpipe close, Deunan's hand closed around the broken-off corner of the sink that Enyo had conveniently smashed for her just as her vision started to black out.

One handed, and oxygen deprived, the blow didn't have her full strength behind it. But a bit of heavy ceramic smashing into the newly blinded side of your face was distracting, even for a cyborg of Agara's caliber.

The terrorist released her hold just enough that Deunan could get her other hand free. Thumbing Sokak's stupid stun-ring around such that it was on the palm-side of her hand, she slapped upwards, depressing the firing stud against her assailant's forehead. For a fraction of a second, Deunan stared her assailant full in the face, both of them surprised at her gesture. She had just enough time to be terrified that Sokak's surprise wouldn't work before the subtle stunner let loose its payload.

Agara froze in place, eye going wide in shock. Deunan kept the pressure up, gripping the woman's face with desperate fingers, even after the ring discharged a second jolt, determined to keep her opponent from dodging even a little of the unlikely attack. Instead of simply flailing or screaming at the hit, the cyborg straddling her made a strange gurgling noise at the back of her throat and went completely limp. Agara's remaining eye rolled back and closed in a remarkably human look of mute agony as she sprawled back heavily across Deunan's legs and hips. For the second time in ten minutes, Deunan sighed to find herself pinned by a comatose sex-bot. Agara wasn't completely out of it, but she was loose-limbed and trembling slightly in response to whatever it was the ring had done to her, was perhaps still _doing_ for all she could tell.

Deunan shimmied out from under the woman with a feeling of cynical disgust at what she'd suspected the ring was designed for. Sokak had told her it packed a wallop? She had a grim feeling that it wasn't _pain_ Agara was lying stunned because of. How the letcher had gotten a hold of the toy was pretty easy to guess, especially with his black-market connections. But if tasering a person was likely to merit official rebuke, she had no idea what the precise critique on _this_ tactic would be. She hoped to hell it fell under the category of don't-ask-don't-tell.

Deunan reminded herself to bust Sokak for possessing the not-just-illegal, but immoral, tech later. If he lived through the night, doubtless she'd catch up with him. There was no time now. A moment to take stock of assets and liabilities, and Deunan grimaced in frustration. There was no more microfiber left to restrain the second sister with. Deunan wasn't sure she dared to try it even if she had the rope. Agara wasn't _out_ precisely... just _very_ distracted. Trying to pull the 'borg apart was an option, but that would mean getting close enough to the woman for long enough to try for something as involved as fiddling with her servos while she wasn't paying attention. If she miss timed it, and the cyborg woke up? She'd be paste.

That didn't mean she was just going to let the woman win either.

Moving on instinct, Deunan grabbed Enyo's limp body by wrist and ankle and roughly pulled her along the floor. Dragging the comatose cyborg towards the utility closet, she resolved to make good her initial idea, just with a twist. Several precious seconds of agonizing wrenching, and she had the girl stowed in the typically oversized trash barrel that filled the majority of the closet, the door discretely shut tight once more.

Her throat and chest hurt like blazes from the effort. Deunan caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and marveled at how a few glancing blows and a second's worth of choke-hold were enough to leave her looking like she'd lost a match against a wrecking ball. Briareos would be well justified in the shit-fit he was going to throw when he saw her later. At the moment, she was more than happy to exchange _that_ fight for the current one. Whether he was pissed at her or not, there was probably no place safer in the club right now than hiding in his shadow.

Seeing Agara's eyes flutter in warning, Deunan remembered the second half of her admittedly hair-brained plan and dove for the door. "Go on, guys, get the woman back to HQ! I'll be right behind you!"

With any luck, and she marveled at her own insanity in considering herself 'lucky' to be chased by a enraged cyborg out for her blood, Agara would be too busy wanting to tear her apart to spare a thought for her sister.

Clearing the outer door to the bathroom, Deunan staggered to a stop as she realized it was almost pitch black by comparison to the room she'd just left. In the fury of the fight, she'd not realized when the regular stall lights had been replaced by emergency ones? The bathroom was so badly lit in the first place, she mused, that the emergency lights were probably better.

There weren't any where near enough of the safety beacons in the club at large. People were milling everywhere in the dark, panicked and screaming as they struggled to find their way towards the exits and avoid the crunches and crashes of the battle taking place around them. The music had apparently cut out when the power had, leaving the whole club feeling weirdly nightmare like as it filled with the sounds of panting terror. Staggering forwards to try and lose herself in the mob, Deunan all but tripped over the prone forms of the two officers who'd been taken down by Agara.

Pure instinct drove her to dig for the first's concealed sidearm and claimed it for herself. The bathroom door banged open even as her hands molded to the stock, flooding the darkness with -relatively- brilliant light. Deunan squeezed the trigger repeatedly as she blinked away tears at the brightness, aiming for Agara's head and chest without any real expectation of hitting something useful. Not expecting her to be armed, cyborg took a full second to flinch, clipped by several of the hits as she raised her forearms defensively to shield her face.

"Bri?!" She called out to the room at large, wondering where he was. Deunan rolled to her hands and knees and crawled between the panicked club patrons to try and loose herself while Agara was distracted. Shooting blindly wouldn't work twice, she knew, and _she_ didn't have night vision to help her distinguish friend from foe.

"113, report status?" The need for stealth was long over. The mission was a complete mess. She trusted her ear piece to carry her voice via their private line, as well as the general ESWAT linkup. There was already enough chatter on the police band that she was afraid she wouldn't get through to him any other way. "Briareos, where are you?!"

Trying to find a break in the frantic back-and-forth she identified herself for any friendlies in the area. "109 to HQ, for god's sake, someone get the lights on in this dump so that friendlies can see who they're shooting at!"

"HQ general alert, SOMA inbound, standby. 109, what is your package status?"

"Tenuous, at best." She admitted, too amazement that the higher-ups would be caviler enough to use canisters of sleepy-gas against the mostly-civilian crowd, to care anymore about the low odds of the mission's success. Given the option of a stampede, and the likelihood of someone dying in the crush? The gas wasn't a bad idea. They'd probably hand-wave later and blame it on an 'overzealous young officer attempting to avert riot' when the news crews got bitchy. That's what she'd do.

A shadowed figure at the door shot three soda-can sized projectiles over the heads of the still jostling and shrieking club-goers. The air in the darkened hall filled with the scent of talcum powder as the powerful sedative took effect. People sagged and dropped where they stood, leaving Deunan shivering at how powerless any of them were to fight the chemical in the air. Thank god it wasn't lethal. She marveled at how it must have felt to be one of the rare survivors of the fourth war, when gas attacks of all sorts had been common. It was creepy enough, knowing that the dancers would wake up in an hour or two, mostly no worse for the wear.

It was good if it minimized the risk to _them_ she realized suddenly, but it also meant that _her_ cover was blown again. Crawling further from the bathroom, she tried to make herself less exposed. Maybe she could play dead, and Agara would mistake her as just another drugged club-bunny?

The only movement left in the darkness was from the far side of the bar. Flickers of light and several heavy thuds let her know that _someone_ else was immune to the vapor, and still able to fight. One guess as to who.

"Briareos?!" She called again to the room at large, wishing to hell she'd thought to bring her eyepiece. She couldn't see well enough to shoot, not and risk hitting her cyborg. Then again, she gauged the strength of the weapon she'd borrowed against the thickness of her lover's hide. He could probably take a hit that would do the other sister damage. As slender as they were? Their armor couldn't be that thick, could it? Deunan wished she felt confident enough to take the risk.

"Honey, you ought to be worrying about yourself." A female growl from the darkness behind her reminded Deunan forcibly that she had her own problems to deal with.

Turning she brought her gun up, only barely able to make out the crouched form of the terrorist in the darkness. How to hit the cyborg without hitting any of the comatose civilians laying around them? That would be the trick. Deunan shuffled backwards, trying vainly to buy herself more time, or a better angle, any insignificant advantage that she could.

"Drop, girl!" Briareos abruptly barked in her ear. Deunan did as she was told on instinct, flattening herself to the floor without hesitation. _Something_ sailed over her head, exactly where she'd been standing, in order to crash into Agara in the darkness with a twin shout of female disgust.

A second, massive, thud directly in front of her crouch blocked what little light she'd been using to see. Briareos, she recognized his shadow immediately, was standing over her defensively. A double burst of muzzle flash from his hands told her that _he_ at least had come properly armed for the night. The realization that he was both ready and able to cover her at last, made her sigh with relief.

A final crash from the direction of the doorway, an Deunan felt almost optimistic once more. Some ESWAT exos were finally on the job. Their floodlights bathed the darkness in sharp beams of clear white, lighting up Briareos, and the tall woman he was holding at bay, as they tried to delicately pick their way across the prone dancers to assist. Agara was nursing a damaged side, cowering behind her sister in a way Deunan found grimly familiar. Everyone had called in reinforcements, from the look of it. It just happened that ESWATs were better.

Finding herself crowded into a corner, their last opponent snarled something Deunan couldn't quite make out and abandoned her gun in favor of tossing several vague _somethings_ into the area around her. Anything else Deunan might have seen was immediately blocked out as Briareos dove across her, all but blanketing her in the safety of his elbows and knees from the inevitable blast. Deunan took the offer of shelter whole heartedly, grasping his crappy shirt with both hands and pressing her face against his chest in the hope that whatever it was wouldn't scorch her too bad. The room abruptly filled with a renewed burst of light, but blessedly, no heat.

Flash-bang grenades. Deunan recognized as she slowly relaxed her desperate grip on her partner. The light was damn near blinding and her eyes weren't even augmented at the moment. Every officer in the room currently equipped with night scopes shouted in various degrees of agony and confusion as their gear amplified the already painful light to unbearable levels, or simply shorted out all together. Briareos swore long and furiously against her shoulder as he continued to shield her from any aftermath. His primary optics had been shielded by their shutters from the effect of the light, but his secondaries behind his jaw didn't have that luxury.

An uncoordinated scuffle ensued as people fumbled blindly for friend and foe alike. For several seconds it was little better than a chaotic mess. Lance's familiar, and particularly aggrieved voice over the com channel ordered everyone to hold still at the risk of probationary proceedings. Deunan had no problem with that order, finding that without the adrenaline of her near-death experience, she was feeling pretty damn flat. The comatose kid laying next to them chose that moment to have a bad reaction to the SOMA gas. She wrinkled her nose and rolled him on his side so that he wouldn't choke on his vomit.

What a day. She sighed as she waited for the all clear with her partner. Day? Hell. What a week! Bruised, battered and lying next to a growing pool of puke on a nightclub floor that had likely not been scrubbed in ages? She sighed again and wondered what the hell she was doing with her life.

"Briareos?" Deunan patted his arm where it was half wrapped under her as he sought to keep her safe. "You alright?"

"Think so." He replied, sounding rather like she felt. "You?"

"I want to go home." She admitted. "I have had all I can take of this week."

"I hear that." He chuckled softly turning his face to nuzzle her hair briefly before sitting up. "Sorry I couldn't get to you sooner... I got a little detained out here."

"No problem." She wanted to chuckle at his understatement. She hadn't been able to see much, but she wagered he'd gotten the superior sister in his duel. She wasn't too proud to admit she'd gotten off lightly in her fights. "I managed to survive."

"Yeah." He pulled her to her feet but kept her hand in his even then. She took the silent offer at face value and leaned against him in the darkness. His voice held a mix of humor and something she couldn't quite name, but wondered if it might not be relief. "Glad you didn't die, girl..."

"Think they got away?" She wondered grimly. Distracted from further musing by the general alert from the team that found the fuse box, she closed her eyes as the room returned to its normal lighting. The rainbow array of dance floor lights, now silently illuminating the crumple heap of comatose party-goers gave the whole scenario a rather surreal look Deunan sighed at the magnitude of the mess. "They were planning on this... Damn it. Thirty guys on the ground and they _still_ got away..."

"Probably." He agreed with her defeated assessment.

"Shit!" She wanted to just sit down and sulk at her failure, but pride, and the damned training her father had instilled in her compelled her to take care of the civilians first. Another few breaths to get herself together, and she surrendered the relative comfort of leaning against her partner in order to see what havoc the SOMA, and the run-away cyborgs had wrought on the club.


	10. Chapter 10

**Promethean Blood - ch 10-**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

Only Deunan, he mused, could manage enough authority with voice alone that she could give orders and help coordinate triage while wearing nothing more than a tattered pleather-cat-suit and tramp-boots. Bloodied, and mussed, she looked like a hooker who'd had a particularly unlucky night, but she sounded and acted so much like a drill sargent that the uniformed policemen and medics around her hopped to it with only minimal appreciative staring between orders. He tried hard to pay attention to his own tasks. Volunteered as grunt labor, he focused as best he could on working in tandem with the pair of exos in order to carefully lift a portion of broken mezzanine off of some trapped civilians so that the EMTs could pull them out. It was hard to be pleased with the rescue efforts with his thoughts still running in random tangents about how the last hour had gone wrong, and how much _worse_ it could have gone wrong.

The fight with the cyborg woman, he could only assume it had been Deinoa based on the mods he'd noted from her photos, had been both sudden and ugly. How the terrorist had managed to collapse the club's upper deck he had no idea, but he'd taken enough hits from the petite looking terrorist that he could appreciate the skill with which she wielded her body. Small the woman might have been, in comparison to his bulk, but her kit had been plenty strong, and plenty fast. There'd been no hesitation in her strikes, at all. He didn't want to think about the bill he was likely to get when he checked into the clinic later to get the dents knocked out of his panels.

Looking at the scuffs and marks on his hands and arms inevitably reminded him of Deunan. She was going to be seriously hurting once she stopped to take stock of herself. Her new injuries made the bruises that had worried him before look like child's play. Why the hell she hadn't let someone else take on her corner of the room in favor of getting one of the ever-helpful nurses to start taping her up? It was a question that didn't need to be asked. Briareos already new the answer. She wasn't sitting down because she either didn't _feel_ it yet or was just too angry to care. With all of her attention focused on the victims, and her squad mates, there was none to spare for herself. He sighed in frustration at the recent trend and decided that if she wasn't going to act in her own best interest, he would.

Setting his corner of the wreckage down when bid, Briareos retreated to the CIC truck before someone could think of another chore requiring a strong-back. He borrowed an overcoat off the hooks, figuring whoevers it was, they'd get it back via HQ in a day or two.

His left knee was definitely in need of work, he figured, bending the joint carefully as he walked and keeping a close eye on the status telltales his AI was displaying. The knee was yellow and steadily degrading to orange with each step he took. By the time it went to red, he figured it'd just give out under him. Probably he ought to sit down before it became a risk. Still, there were one or two things he wanted to take care of first. The primary of which involved draping the borrowed coat he'd procured over Deunan's sagging shoulders. She turned to look up at him in startled wonder.

"Figured you'd be feeling the cold now that things have calmed down." He offered, feeling chagrined all over again at their recent failures to be remotely civilized with each other. They'd sunk pretty low, he figured, when something as stupid as being provided a coat left her staring at him as if waiting for a new reason to cringe.

"So it wasn't just that you got tired of me tramping up the place?" She half-smiled at him, the humor was self-effacing, but the challenge was there if he looked in her eyes.

"I think we may have to retire the boots." He shrugged. Even if he'd been inclined to critique her outfit, there was no way he was picking another fight with her after the day they'd had. "As these were done in 'at work' I bet we can get Lance to expense you a new pair at the end of the month."

She looked down, noting how the faux leather was torn and hopelessly scuffed in places, and then over at the way he was favoring his knee. "Looks like the expense sheet's going to be a long one this time." She agreed slowly. "You going to hold together long enough for triage and a ride to the clinic?"

"Yeah. It'll keep." The idea that he'd have to go to the clinic _again_ left Briareos feeling even more exhausted. He'd just _left_ the damned place. He didn't want to go to back. He wanted to go _home_ and put the week behind him for twelve hours... preferably twenty-four. He was long over due for a serious heart-to-heart with Deunan in order somehow figure out how to patch things with her in a way they both could live with.

If he went back to the clinic they'd just tranquilize him again in the vain hope of helping him sleep, and leave him at the mercy of his nightmares for _another_ block of useless hours. Briareos didn't give a shit about the 'quality of his theta-waves.' He expected that when he went in to be treated for 'x' they did as they were told and didn't go trying to treat him for 'y' without his permission. Especially considering that the treatment wasn't particularly effective. He quashed his annoyance before his girl could misread him and get defensive again. Lifting a hand to her arm, he gave her a gentle squeeze, hoping that somehow she understood his relief that she was still alive, and better yet, talking to him. Nothing like dealing with a life-threatening situation, he supposed, to hit the 'reset' button on all the pettier feelings that had been getting between them.

"109, 113. Over here if you please." Lance was frowning in annoyance as he observed the cleanup from the doorway. He was kind enough to wait until they were close enough to not have voices carry before chewing them out as screw-ups.

Briareos stood and listened as Deunan gave her terse summary of events, filling in his side of things with equal economy of words when the old man's gaze turned his direction. There really wasn't much to say. He'd barely started a proper conversation with Enyo, before Deunan had swept in and carried the night with her usual flare. Hell, from the sound of it, her five-minute heart-to-heart in the bathroom with their suspect had more substance to it than the half hour's worth of small talk he'd tried. The lack of practice chatting up women in recent years had done nothing useful for his game. He'd never rated himself particularly high in the flirting-department before hitting it off with Deunan. And since then? There'd never been much need to hone his lackluster skills at chatting up strangers. For all the help he'd been, he realized grimly, he might as well have stayed at the clinic. Sokak and his girl could have handled the whole thing without him.

The memory of Deunan calling to him for help, when it was all he could do to keep Deinoa from staving in his skull with her fists left his nerves jangling to the point of physical pain. He'd known she was in trouble, but there was nothing he could do about it. The cyborg had him completely matched, despite the size difference, and would have likely gained the upper hand in short order if backup hadn't arrived. Briareos recognized that he'd been too distracted by his girl's troubles to give the fight the absolute attention it deserved. His opponent had to have been counting on it, the timing of her attack had been too good for it to be just coincidence.

The memory of Deinoa's little smile as she'd stalked him left him cold. No amount of enhance feminine appeal could counteract the pure evil her look had held. The woman's eyes had glowed in the dark - the same as his, he supposed – but with her otherwise human features it had been disconcerting, giving her an even more feral, almost lunatic look as they'd battled across the club. It was a true miracle, he marveled that he'd managed to not backhand a civilian in the course of their violent scramble. It was small consolation that he'd kept the _third_ cyborg from getting to Deunan, or for that matter, getting to _him_ during their struggle. He was supposed to be _apprehending_ suspects, not just providing a lack luster distraction to them while his girl did all the real work.

As a cyborg, he supposed, he really was a bit of a failure.

It was rather hypocritical of him, Briareos decided, to be angry at Deunan for not wanting to be limited by her only-human abilities as she strove to master her profession. It was a wonder she didn't call him on his bullshit. She had to know by now - that the real reason he preferred tactics to direct confrontation was that he was, even now, scared of what his body could do if he didn't hold back. He sighed, looking sideways at his partner, cringing mentally at the darkening bruises on her face, neck and arms. His girl had survived one hell of a beating. Sure the doctors could probably have her looking better in an hour or two, but that didn't change the fact that it had happened. He'd let it happen. Next time, he promised himself, feeling the anger and helplessness coalesce into a firm lump in his gut. Next time? He wouldn't stop until Deinoa and her sisters were down, whatever that took.

Lance was grumbling about slapdash preparations and the like while he wasn't paying attention. Briareos sighed to himself and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Yet again he was left with the impression that he – they - hadn't done anything in particular wrong, exactly, and yet somehow, they'd utterly failed in doing the thing _right_ too. Two officers dead this time. He winced internally at the idea of attending the funerals. He'd barely known the men but that wouldn't stop him from including them in nightmares in the weeks and months to come. Looking briefly sideways towards Deunan, he noted his girl's pinched and pale expression. She was feeling it too, he knew. The men hadn't been her subordinates, exactly, but they'd died trying to help her, and that was just as bad as far as she was concerned. Lance summarized events from his perspective and then paused, letting them have a moment to add anything else that might have been overlooked. Briareos had nothing to say.

Deunan rubbed her hair and sighed. "So all three got away? No ability to track _any_ of them?"

"It doesn't seem that way." The colonel agreed. "The first..." He pointed upwards towards the hole in the roof. "Drew our fire with her attack on the building, a diversionary tactic, we now know. While the second broke through the cordon at the back. We're still investigating where the third slipped off to... Reports from the cordon are rather confused as to what exactly the woman looked like, other than to say that the cyborg in question was severely injured. "We found traces of material from one or both of your opponents, and have delivered the items to forensics for further study."

He produced an evidence bag with a familiar looking mini-stun-gun in it. Briareos glanced towards Deunan with grudging respect. She was insane to have gone after a cyborg with such a minimal weapon. The fact that it had worked? Only mitigated her absurd risk-taking slightly. Judging by Lance's expression, the old man seemingly agreed with him. Deunan merely shrugged, the bruising around her throat making her voice lower than usual. "You try fitting an uzi in an outfit like this one and see how far you get. Hand to hand combat wasn't the objective of this operation, sir."

"That may be, 109. But this isn't standard equipment. Dare I ask where you even acquired such a thing?"

"It's legit." She shrugged again, looking a little defensive. "I got it at an authorized weapon's dealer in west-side a few months ago. Thought it was cool, with the whole compact-rechargeable-battery-thing..."

Briareos vaguely remembered the shop, as well as the impulse purchase. He had no room to complain. He'd dithered over buying a gorgeous replica harpoon-gun for easily half an hour before deciding that it just wasn't worth the hassle of shipping it home. By comparison, the stunner had been positively souvenir-like in its size and affordability.

Deunan sighed again, looking peeved at herself as she glanced towards the bathroom again. "Damn it... I knew it was too good to be true. I might as well have not bothered to hide her in the first place."

"Hide who." Briareos blinked at the odd comment. "Hide where."

"Enyo." His girl tucked her hands in her borrowed coat's pockets. "I stuffed her in the closet after knocking the other one out, figuring that with luck 'big sis' would be so bent on chasing me that she'd forget to fetch her sister, but no such luck. They probably have trackers on each other."

Briareos blinked again, that particular detail having not made it into his partner's initial report. "You said you her temporarily incapacitated in the bathroom..."

The idea that Deunan had fought not just one, but _two_ combat cyborgs in the span of ten minutes. That she'd done it _on her own_, and sustained nothing more than bruises for her trouble, was likely going to be a department legend by morning. He tried not to think too hard about it, not sure if what he was feeling was awe, or terror. His girl was, for the moment, too tired to remember to gloat over her unbelievable accomplishment.

"I did. I managed to knock Agara out for a minute during my fight with _her_, and stuffed Enyo in the utility-closet for safe keeping." Deunan rubbed her hand through her mussed hair, looking utterly spent. "Figured... unless Enyo woke up and bitched, her sister would assume I'd turned her over to the squad when she came around and would chase me instead of looking... What, why are you both staring at me like that..?"

Lance tapped his earpeice before Briareos could muster the focus to use his internal circuits. "CIS, have you checked the utility closet for... yes do it now if you please..."

The old man closed his eyes with a tired sigh as he listened to the report on a private channel, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he waited. Able to hear the distant noises of surprise from across the room, Briareos reached out to squeeze Deunan's shoulder in silent amazement at her antics. His girl looked up at him in mute indifference, clearly having given her plan up as stupid long ago.

"Deunan..." He didn't know whether to shake her by the shoulders for taking the risks she had, or kiss her full on the mouth for her absolute brilliance. She'd _done_ it. Damn near entirely on her own, she'd pulled off the ESWAT coup of the month, possibly of the year. His cynical side pointed out that it only made his own recent failures all the more glaring, to be shown up by his girl's quick thinking when opportunity came her way, and her devilishly good luck in combat. She was getting more like her father with each passing year. He wondered to himself whether it was a good thing or not.

"What now?" She couldn't hear it, he abruptly realized, seeing she was still confused. Without radio confirmation, or the ability to listen through walls, she was clueless as to her success.

"Well." Lance cleared his throat at last. "That was... surprising. Lieutenant Knute, you _do_ know that it's a civil offense in Olympus to deactivate a cyborg against his or her will, correct?"

"Yessir."

"And deactivating one... and then dropping them in a oversized trash barrel... It might be seen, by some concerned party, as an attempt to commit homicide. If she'd gone undiscovered by the waste removal facility, she might have made it as far as the city dump without means of rescuing herself."

"I know, sir, it was only meant to be temp- wait, she's still there?" Deunan blinked, slowly realizing what she was being told. "You're kidding. I thought you said all three had escaped..."

"So we had surmised, based on the evidence that none of the three were materially _present_ here at the scene." Their commander drawled slowly.

All three of them watched in various degrees of resignation as a small group of EMTs hustled towards the bathroom with a hover-stretcher, and just as swiftly returned with a limp cybernetic female strapped to the cart, whisking her off to a secure facility.

Lance produced a cigar from within the lining of his coat and quietly prepped and lit it before looking at them both with chagrined good humor. "I believe I will have to speak firmly with the CIS squad leaders responsible for cleanup on any future operations you plan to run, Lieutenant. Just to ensure that they pay careful attention to closets, garbage chutes, and under mattresses for any _further_ surprises you may wish to bestow upon me."

"Oh." Still too startled to recognize a tease when she heard it, Deunan seemed to take the scold at face value. "Sorry, sir."

"Officer Knute," he corrected her. "Well done."

Deunan smiled broadly, wincing as it caused her lip to bleed slightly with the movement. "Thank you, sir."

"Idiot." Briareos murmured when she turned to look up at him for further confirmation that she'd done good work. Wrapping his arm around her back, he squeezed her to his side, wary of her fresh bruises. If he needed a clinic and twelve hours of sleep? She definitely needed a doctor. "Let's get you patched up, huh?"

"A moment, 113." The colonel interrupted his initial move to shift his partner with a more serious tone. "I have caught up with the reports from the past few days, from various sources... and I confess, I was... unhappily surprised by some of what I saw. I realize of course, that ESWAT hasn't known you long, officers, but even so. There's a certain lack of professionalism observed recently that is not what I've come to expect from the pair of you."

Briareos could feel Deunan tensing beside him, and squeezed her in silent warning to take the rebuke without complaint. The old man wasn't wrong. They'd definitely been out of line lately, him more so than her, perhaps, but like the old saying went, it took two to tango. Lance watched them both with far too knowing an expression for his level of comfort. Briareos told himself to not squirm under the searching gaze.

"Still, maybe... people were simply over reacting. The two of you seem capable of performing at your normal level when properly motivated. Therefore I will assume that this... unusual behavior... is merely a temporary hiccup in an otherwise solid record."

"Thank you, sir." His girl's words jarred him into answering in kind. It was rather 'unprofessional', Briareos belatedly realized, to be accepting a dressing down while clinging to his partner. Still, if he dropped his arm now, it'd be a guilty gesture, and likely leave Deunan feeling dismissed as well. He kept his arm where it was. Better to just grit his teeth and pretend that holding onto her at this point was an act of solidarity rather than intimacy, although he couldn't imagine it being taken in that way.

"Never-the-less. I'd like you both to think carefully about any underlying issues that may be causing this noticeable discord? Perhaps discuss it amongst yourselves. You have twenty-four hours. After which time I will ask you to report to me, separately, to share any thoughts you may have on the subject of your goals within ESWAT as individuals." The colonel looked at his touch pad with a few short jabs, confirming what he likely already knew. "The appointments are already scheduled on your personal calendars, and supersede any other regularly scheduled daily items. I am relieving you both of duty until then, effective immediately."

Looking up, he gestured with his stylus towards the hard working EMTs. "Both of you get yourselves checked out... and then get out of my sight until then. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yessir." Briareos answered for both of them this time, feeling Deunan mutely nodding her head at his side. She remained quiet all the way to the triage post. When he left her in the care of the nurses, he couldn't help but wonder if the puffiness around her eyes was from the fight, or from holding back her tears. Determined to get checked out, and get her home before the crying jag truly kicked in, he limped off to find a doctor for himself too.

* * *

It was kind of pathetic, he figured, when every single one of the clinicians in the cybernetics triage truck knew him on sight, and he could name half of them in return. He sighed as they poked and prodded, letting them get on with pulling him apart to begin the inevitable field repairs. As much as he might bitch to his girl that she'd been playing a hell of a lot rougher since coming to Olympus, the length of his maintenance log wasn't getting any shorter with each passing month. The city was larger, the stakes higher... There was no denying. The game was just that much _harder_ than it had been back in LA.

ESWAT really was wrestling with international-level bullshit in terms of the criminals they faced and the weapons they brought to bear. The proverbial buck, in terms of law enforcement, stopped with _them_... and if they failed? Briareos stared at the ceiling as the eggheads debated the wiring in his busted knee. Who did ESWAT escalate to if they bit off more than they could chew? Olympus' tiny standing army? Some sort of UN-appointed task force? It hadn't happened yet. Briareos hoped to hell it never would. But the problem remained a crucial one. How could anyone, even someone blooded under the infamous command of Colonel Knute, keep up with the shit Olympus was navigating through, day in day out?

The work was harder, the fights meaner, the hours... frankly were down right brutal. It was all well and good for a cyborg like him. He supposed. He could always upgrade hardware to keep up with the enemy. If his stubborn dreams would leave off for a while, he could even get a full night's worth of sleep in two or three hours, thanks to the Hecatonchire's assist, instead of a normal eight. What was someone like Deunan supposed to do? How the hell could any normal human keep up? How did Magus do it?

Briareos sighed to himself. There was no guarantee that their squad leader actually _was_ entirely human anymore. Just because he looked flesh and blood didn't mean he hadn't had work done beneath the skin where it was less obvious. He didn't _think_ the man had, but really, how was he to know?

Deunan could, and did, train harder than she ever had. But there was a limit to what her body could stand. She could wield better weapons, wear stronger armor, but in the end, would it really help? The constant injuries, the stress, the exhaustion... Whether she wanted to admit it or not, they were taking their toll. He mentally reached out to nudge the computers he was plugged in to, daring the less-than-ethical tactic of leaning on them in order to get access to the ESWAT network remote link that someone had set up.

It was child's play to pull up Deunan's medical data from the triage truck out in the street. Heart beat and respiration, elevated but normal, despite all rational expectation, she seemed to have walked off her fight without any major injuries. He glanced through the clinician's notes, wincing at the laundry list of moderate injuries she'd accrued since dinner, never mind the ones she was already dealing with from the day before. It wasn't fair, he shook his head as he wrestled with the problem. He'd promised her father that he'd look after her. But how the hell was he supposed to protect her from herself? What on earth had made her think that taking down Enyo solo was a good idea? Why would she even want to? The girl he'd known back in LA wouldn't have been that insane, despite her reputation for wildness. He was sure of it. The girl he'd fought beside in the war had been calculating, and devil-may-care at times, but she'd stuck with her team, even then, knowing when to strike and when to seek shelter.

Briareos watched the techs work on his knee as he pondered the problem. Something had changed with Deunan. He couldn't quite pinpoint the exact day, or hour that the change had happened, probably it was _still_ happening. But he didn't like it, and he didn't understand it. Something had happened, with their arrival in Olympus. Deunan's recent ridiculous risk taking, her stubbornness, her... brittleness... she seemed more like a stranger than his partner lately.

The idea that they were growing apart left him cold. It was strange to think that a girl that once upon a time he'd started a friendship with out of simple boredom had become so integral to his daily functioning. Briareos tried to imagine what life would be like without her, but found himself drawing a total blank, his brain simply refusing to allow for such an unwanted fantasy. The idea that she could be in the city, and not with _him_, was deeply troubling. Worse yet, he realized, would be if she didn't leave, but instead simply threw herself into danger again and again until... the inevitable happened.

Reaching out, he detached himself from the machines around him as their beeping grew annoying. He didn't need to be told that he was stressed and upset. He was well aware. The curt gesture caused the techs to look at him in sudden worry. Briareos forced himself to sit back and pretend to be more relaxed than he felt, for their sake. He was already bucking for a psych evaluation, he was certain that Lance would ask him to volunteer for one within the next thirty-six hours if the doctors didn't flat out tell him it was required. Briareos told himself to man-up and tolerate the unwanted intrusion without complaint. He'd brought it on himself with his recent moodiness.

Maybe they were right to worry. If anything it'd be good, perhaps, to get some of the shit in his head out into the air with someone impartial. Maybe the _shrink_ could tell him what was wrong with Deunan. The idea of hauling his girl in to swap places for him at his own psych assessment was almost comical. She'd flip her lid, he was certain. But that didn't mean she didn't need someone's help... if not his... than why not a shrink? That's what they were paid for wasn't it? To help people?

His subconscious teased him again with the image of what could have happened to his partner if the fight in the bathroom had gone wrong. Alone, with no backup, no useful weapons... she _shouldn't_ have survived that. The odds against her had been astronomical. Probably the only reason why she _had_ managed to get the jump on the cyborgs was because even they believed they couldn't be beaten with such extreme advantage on their side. But that didn't justify Deunan's willingness to try for it. The more he tried to deny the idea, the more the truth of it haunted him. Deunan wasn't just wild anymore. She was actively courting a death-wish.

Naming his worry for his girl helped give his thoughts focus, but didn't do much to provide inspiration on why it was, or how to fix it. Things were supposed to be _better_ in Olympus, Briareos sighed. After years of doing without, his girl had all the niceties of civilization she'd grown up with once more. Restaurants full of good food, shops full of pretty dresses, a soft bed to sleep in and hot water at the turn of a tap, in theory she could want for nothing. Even when it came to ways to keep her occupied every day, she ought to have been content. She was a policewoman again... respected by her teammates, admired by her friends.

So why did it seem like she'd been _happier_ in the badlands? They'd had next to nothing in the desert. Constantly under threat, half-starved, living on the edge of catastrophe. But somehow, Deunan had weathered one obstacle after the next with seemingly endless optimism. How contrary could a woman be? That she was joyful when faced with misery, and miserable when surrounded by the finest the world had to offer... He just didn't understand.

"We're done, sir." The tech's hesitant voice provided the needed distraction from his tangled thoughts. Heaving out of his chair, Briareos checked his joints before nodding his thanks to the crew that had worked on him. There were still plenty of dents from where Deinoa had landed hits on him, he sighed, but at least his status lights were all green again. The rest of the dings and marks would keep until his regular overhaul visit at the end of the month.

Checking Deunan's location one last time as he unjacked, he huffed to himself to find she was already in transit to HQ for followup treatment for her poor abused ribs. Briareos couldn't help but be sensitive to the fact that she hadn't called to tell him she was being moved. He told himself to stop being stupidly paranoid about it, but it didn't help. She'd been so erratic lately, he mused, sometimes almost clingy in her desire to be with him, sometimes short-tempered and distant, jumping on him for any slight she could imagine. Which was the real Deunan, he wondered. Her annoyance certainly didn't feel faked. In hindsight? It was hard to decide whether she'd been actually happy in recent memory, or whether she'd just been putting on a good show of it for his benefit. He shook his head telling himself to stop second guessing.

Lance had told them to go home and sort it out, once the doctors were through with them. It seemed like sound advice. Briareos shrugged back into his coat and made for the edge of the cordon, ignored by the remaining crew members working the cleanup. The only way for he and his girl to sort out this shit between them, he figured, was for them to talk. Truly _talk_ and not the bullshit small talk they'd been getting by with lately. He frowned to himself as he walked towards the nearest public transport pickup. When was the last time he and his girl has really talked? About anything? He added it to the growing list of worries he was determined to do something about.


	11. Chapter 11

**Promethean Blood - ch 10A-**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

Deunan looked as worn down as he felt, Briareos decided on letting himself into her room at the clinic. Stripped to the waist, her chest and waist all but encased in the flexible mesh of the bone-knitting machine, Deunan barely lifted her head to look at him on his arrival before letting it fall back again to rest against the wall where she sat propped. He internally winced at the cool welcome even as he crossed the room to absently collect her clothing from the heap on the chair, folding her borrowed coat into a tidier pile than she'd left it. He should have stopped by the locker-room first, he supposed, gotten her a change of clothing so that she wouldn't have to limp home in her torn boots. He'd go in a minute, he resolved - once he was certain she was alright. Chances were her treatment would take another hour at least. Would she even be good to drive? He made note to himself to call a cab. The last thing she needed was to have strangers oggling her bruises as she rode the bus back to their flat.

The silence between them stretched to an uncomfortable degree. He looked at her carefully, weighing his need to talk with her against her visible exhaustion and discomfort. It seemed best to just start slowly, he mustered his tattered confidence to broach the topic. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been thrown into a wall or three..." Deunan sighed. "Otherwise, I'm alright. You?"

He approached the side of her bed in order to brush a finger over the fading bruises on her cheek and jaw. The gel that the medics liked slathering such injuries in had done its work well. Washed clean of blood and liberally painted in the goop, Deunan's face was looking considerably less mauled than it had an hour ago. Her lip still looked scabbed and swollen from the cyborg's punches, but the grey-green bruises around her neck would likely clear up before morning.

"Status green." He offered, seeing how she was waiting for an answer. Seeing her sardonic nod in agreement, and subsequent wince as she bent her neck, he tried to make light of their less-than-excellent condition. "Otherwise, tired, hungry... burned out. You know. The usual."

"Yeah." His girl closed her eyes again, seeming to prefer resting while the machine worked its magic on her ribs. "I hear you."

"Deunan..." He let his fingers drop to her bare shoulder, wincing at the evidence that there were bruises there too. "I-"

"Please." She raised a hand to weakly ward him off. "Not here, ok? I think we've aired enough dirty laundry in public for one week, don't you?"

"I wasn't-" He hesitated to finish, not sure what he'd been intending to do, or say. "How much longer do they want to hold you here? Can I get you anything? Something to eat?"

"It's 3 AM in the morning, old man." Deunan pointed out candidly. "Nothing worth eating will be available. I'll be done as soon as this crap goes 'beep'. I'll just eat something at home. Get something for yourself if you want, but I'm good."

"A coffee at least? Tea?" He tried to encourage her.

"I'm good." She reiterated tiredly. "You can go home, you know. You don't need to wait for me."

"I'd rather stay." Briareos countered gently, not interested in eating if it meant leaving her alone again. A change of clothes could wait, he decided, they'd go to the lockers together when she was released. "They give you something for the pain at least?"

"Yeah." Deunan sighed again. "Look Bri- about earlier..."

"It'll keep." He reached out to touch her again, letting his fingers trail down her arm in sympathy, pausing at the scuffed and broken skin over her knuckles. "It's alright, girl."

"It's not alright." She disagreed, shaking her head slowly. "Nothing's right... this is all just so fucked up, baby and I don't even know-"

"We'll talk." Briareos cut her off before she could agitate herself further. One thing at a time he told himself. First they'd get her unstrapped from the damned machine, and cleared by the doctors, _then_ they'd try and apply some bandages to the other things broken between them. "We'll talk about it when we get home."

"Yeah. ok." Deunan grimaced expressively. Briareos pet her arm again, feeling comforted by the fact that she didn't pull away. Daring further still, he eased himself onto the bed beside her, inviting her, if she wanted, to slouch against him and get comfortable. His girl slid sideways along the wall until her cheek rested along his arm, eyes closing as she rested through the remainder of her therapy. Their trip home was a quiet one by mutual agreement.

* * *

Neither of them was terribly hungry when left with the fact that they'd have to _cook_ whatever they wanted to eat. There just wasn't any stamina for mucking about in the kitchen. Briareos hesitated to fix himself a drink, and then decided it could hardly make things worse and made the whiskey a double. Deunan waved off his silent offer of a glass, stepping around him to grab a shower and change from her wrinkled uniform to sweats. Her cat-suit, he noted, had found it's way to the trashcan on their way out of the locker room earlier. She hadn't bothered to bring the torn outfit home.

Taking his time in the kitchen as he listened to her rinsing and dressing upstairs. He tried to marshal his thoughts into something like a coherent proposal. The alcohol burned his throat on the way down, reminding him that as much as he wanted the liquor to settle his nerves he needed to keep his head clear for what was to come. The last thing he wanted was for them to have another round of shouting stupidity at each other. There had been enough of that already.

Briareos tilted his head, hearing the telltale sound of the upstairs balcony door slide back. Deunan wasn't coming back down? He glanced towards the window, acknowledging that it was no longer really dark out. The first hint of morning tinging the horizon. It hadn't been a particularly cold night, and some fresh air after the claustrophobic darkness of the club? Would be a welcome change. Filling a glass of water for his girl, Briareos mustered his courage and moved to join her.

He found Deunan sitting on the balcony, pretty much where he expected she'd be; curled on their small bench, looking out over the neighborhood. Her damp hair clung to her forehead as it dried, her loose t-shirt making her look even smaller than she was. He could feel her practically radiating exhaustion, and resignation. He sat down next to her with a soft sigh, passing her the cup he'd carried up for her.

"It's water." He clarified when she made a face at his offering. Deunan blinked and accepted it after a moment's hesitation.

"I thought..."

"It's fine." He waved off her vague apology. "I understand."

"You never let me finish what I'm trying to say." Deunan sighed, staring down at her water in chagrin. "You ever notice that?"

"Do I?" Briareos wondered aloud. He sighed again, slowly letting the wall take more of his weight as he slouched back in an echo of her pose. The whiskey was helping, supposed. The constant chase of his thoughts slowing a little thanks to the alcohol running through his system, letting him find a little space to breathe amidst all the frantic worry and stress of the past several days. "I hadn't noticed."

"Not like I have anything to say worth hearing anyway, right?" His girl's lips twisted upwards into an interpretation of a smile, but the expression just looked strange, and wrong. He shuttered his mechanical eyelids as he tried to make sense of her dark mood.

"Deunan...You know that's not true." Briareos tried to find a place to begin. "Look. It occurs to me, girl... that we've broken just about every rule we've ever made for each other in the past few weeks, hell... months, maybe." He shared his latest revelation to her as he watched the sky slowly change color.

Even for a cyborg, the bench wasn't remotely comfortable. He wondered how Deunan could stand it. They'd gotten the damned thing for free; another relic of Hitomi's, gifted to them when they'd moved away. But it was only after they'd set it out and tried it that they realized _why_ the bioroid had been so happy to part with it. Some how they'd talked several times about replacing the thing with proper chairs, but had never actually gotten around to it. There were a lot of things, he mused, that in the balance, they'd put off doing for too long, in trying to master the inherent insanity of life in Olympus.

Deunan said nothing to his comment, shifting to tuck her legs up so she could rest her elbows on her knees. Somehow her silence was worse than when she shouted and threw things. He rubbed his arm wondering at himself for the preference. It wasn't like he _liked_ when she flew off the handle for the stupidest reasons, but at least he knew how to cope her temper. This felt too much like she'd given up all together. If he wasn't even worth getting mad at anymore, he wasn't sure _what_ he could do to get through to her.

"Deunan..."

"I'm listening." She sighed bitterly. "What do you want me to say, 'no baby, everything's fine, don't worry'? I'm sorry, I'm just a little too tired right now to tell that one with a straight face. Try me tomorrow."

"Everything's _not_ fine." He disagreed. "You've been about five minutes from balling your eyes out all day, and I- I'm not..." He wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say, and so chose to just stop babbling.

Dawn was breaking over the neighborhood as they sat uselessly, birds out in full force, chirping in chorus across the various lawns and gardens. It was really pretty, he acknowledged, but it was pathetic that they were both sitting outside having this horribly awkward conversation when they ought to have been indoors, with curtains drawn, getting what sleep they could in their time off.

He exhaled and tried again, working through the mental script he'd loosely assembled during her shower. "Look. A long time ago, we promised each other a couple of things. Just basic, stupid shit, but things that we once thought were important. Stuff like, remembering to ask each other for help, when we needed it... and being open about things that weren't working between us. Not letting this relationship be something, just casual and shallow. Not taking it for granted."

"I remember."

Briareos shrugged, not able to tell from her expression whether the memory made her happy or sad. He turned his drink in his hands, watching the ice slowly melting. "Somehow. I think we've lost that. Not intentionally, just... that life got in the way of our old goals without us really noticing. And looking back, it seems to me that I can't remember the last time that we really _talked_, Deunan. I mean, about _important_ shit. About us. About life. About what we wanted to do, or be. Back in the badlands, maybe. Or when I was laid up when we first got here, but definitely not since then."

"We've been busy." She answered carefully, still not looking at anything in particular, stubbornly resisting his overture to unbend a little. "There were more important things to bitch about in the badlands. And here? Well... there just hasn't been much to say."

Briareos was suddenly reminded of her as a child, constantly waiting for the bad news that inevitably followed. He set his cup aside and reached out to catch her hand, tugging it away from her knees in favor of cupping it between his. God she was tiny. He marveled at her audacity, in choosing to stay with him all these years. She was truly fearless, for good or ill. That same trait that had scared him so much lately, had always been there in one form or another. Somehow it'd just become... twisted, like the rest of their dynamic. He firmed his resolve to _un-twist_ it, whatever the effort.

"You used to have so many plans, girl. Do you remember? You had a whole list of places we needed to visit... Stuff you wanted to do. Do you ever think about those things anymore?"

"Not really." Deunan shrugged, accepting the loss as a matter of course. "The war kinda fucked a lot of it up anyway. Half those places don't really exist anymore. Not the way they used to. And all the stuff I wanted to do? It was all in LA, or with people who're dead now. It wouldn't be the same."

"But, surely there are new things you want. I mean, more than just the latest pair of shoes, or a pay raise. Something a little more, I don't know... personal, I guess."

Deunan looked at him at last, mouth a tight line as she tried to understand the question inherent in his statement. After a long moment, she gave up with another shrug. "Not really. I have everything a person needs to get by. I mean... I've got food, shelter, employment, a little in the bank for splurges. What else is there?"

"Those are all things you need in order to live, girl. But what do you live _for_?" Briareos couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at him for a while now.

Every time she threw herself into the path of oncoming fire, in fact, the question would inevitably flash through his subconscious. Because he had a growing suspicion that somewhere along the way, in the army maybe, or in the badlands, maybe even in their transit to Olympus, she'd _lost_ it. Whatever reason she'd had. That indescribable _spark_ burning so brightly for as long as he'd known her had started to fade. Only it'd done so so gradually that he hadn't noticed at first, and even when he had? She'd still acted like herself most days. So he'd convinced himself that he was imagining it, until the next time she did something that made him genuinely wonder.

"What are you talking about." Deunan scolded him, seemingly annoyed by the idea that he was prying into something that really, lover or not, he had no business asking about.

It wasn't like he'd ever really understood her original reason for being the person she was. He understood quite a bit, he figured, about the way she ticked; her day-to-day needs and wants. But he'd always shied away from digging deeper, afraid to ask for such an intimate part of her when he knew he couldn't answer if she were to ask the same of him.

The sad thing, he realized, was that he'd recently come to an understanding of what drove _him_ to live. Maybe that was the root of the current problem. He finally had something he could share with her, something real, and honest. Only, he was now afraid he'd waited too long, and she'd stopped caring.

"Deunan, I know I've been frustrated with you a lot lately. And, I know I haven't expressed that frustration well. And god knows, when I've tried to talk to you about this, you always seem to hear exactly the opposite of what I'm trying to say... but I'm going to try again, alright? And this time, for my sake, would you please just listen to me? Don't just blow me off, but _listen_. And at the end, if you're still pissed then- fuck it, I'll stop harping on it. But at least we'll know where we stand. And if you're not pissed, and you want to tell me something - anything - that's been on your mind, then that's great too. Ok?"

Deunan turned her face so that she could rest her cheek on her knee and watch him at the same time. There were shadows under her eyes she was so tired but she nodded slowly just the same. "Sure. Knock yourself out."

Briareos found it easier to watch her fingers than to match that stare as he carefully chose his words. " You need to understand. When I'm angry with you... I'm, well -"

He closed his eyes and swore to himself that a little humiliation was nothing if it meant he wouldn't be watching her pack her belonging and moving out in the near future. "Some of the things you've been doing lately have scared the _shit_ out of me, Deunan, and I don't think you even realize it. You just jump into things without thinking and I freak out to the point where I just get so- and end up yelling at you about what you're doing, and not about why it bothers me, and I think- no, I _know_, that it's not helpful, to either of us. Like treating a symptom, and not the illness. I've wanted to talk to you about it for a while now... but I confess, I've been scared to do that too..."

Deunan was frowning at him as she puzzled out his meaning. He felt horribly exposed as he sat there letting her consider his confession. What would she do with the knowledge, he wondered. It'd be trivial for her to use his fears against him. Probably, he'd never win another fight for as long as they lived together. She'd hold all the cards. Not that she hadn't always, but she hadn't _known_ the power was hers to wield.

"What exactly are you afraid of?" She asked at last. "You say you're scared when I do things... And then say you're scared to tell me you're scared...? That's confusing. Also, unlikely."

"What, I'm not allowed to be afraid of things?" Briareos snorted, finding it easier to discuss the problem if he pretended they were both talking about someone else. "I'm afraid of all kinds of things, Deunan, some of them quite mundane. I'm afraid of spiders even, and that's down right average..."

Deunan shook her head. "You're not afraid of spiders. You don't _like_ them, but that's not the same thing. That's like me saying I'm afraid of tight spaces. I can deal with them just fine, I'm just not comfortable with being someplace I can't easily move around in. It's a control issue, not a phobia."

Briareos snorted again, amused by her continued denial that any of the considerable traumas she'd survived in her life could have left scars. Typical Deunan. Sadly she soon returned to considering the original topic of their conversation determined to make him sweat over it beneath his armor. "What are you afraid of, Bri?"

He'd been the one to broach the subject, Briareos sighed, there was no backing out now. Crossing his ankles, he studied her fingers, still loosely curled in his grip and surrendered the last crumbs of his pride. "I'm scared of losing you, girl. It'd be bad enough if you just got fed up at last and walked out. But one of these days Deunan, I swear you're going to get yourself killed just out of damned recklessness and it's going to be my fault."

The absolute silence from the woman sitting next to him made him want to cringe. Briareos fought the urge to laugh at himself, at the stupidity of the words as they hit the open air. "I don't- I don't think you realize, Deunan, how much I depend on you. How much I need-" He closed his eyes and told himself to shut up before he said something truly pathetic.

His cynical side was crying foul, telling him he was an idiot for even saying as much as he had. All she had to do, he mused, was make the connection that he couldn't really function, as a person, without her, and she would own him, utterly. How the hell had he let this happen? He marveled at his lack of self-preservation.

Determined that something good might come from his painful confession he tried to direct her attention back to the problem at hand. "When you go and do things, like running into potentially fatal toxic-clouds without a respirator, for example? I think to myself, 'This is it. Nobody can be that lucky. She's dead.' And I feel horrible. Truly horrible, girl. Like I can't breathe. Like in that minute, I can see every second of what the future would be like without you, and... it hurts. It's physically painful. Do you know that?"

She shook her head, eyes wide in silent amazement. He suppressed a fresh urge to laugh at himself. He'd finally found something to say to her that would strike her speechless. He patted her hand and let it go, choosing instead to rest his elbows on his knees and gather his thoughts by staring at the humble concrete of their balcony. He felt like he was having an out of body experience. Would he have been able to make a confession like this, he marveled, if not in the throws of extreme sleep deprivation and aided by a good strong lick of alcohol? Usually he had better self control. He wanted to just give up on the world a while; close his eyes and nap. But he wanted Deunan more. He wanted things back the way they used to be.

"I'm scared that telling you all of this will mess up what little normalcy is left between us." Briareos admitted the last of it, weirdly glad to have the confession off his chest. It was rather freeing, he decided, to get it out in the open, all the worries that had been nagging him for so long. "That you'll now second guess everything I say to you, wondering if I'm asking you to do things because it's the right thing to do, or because I'm just being selfish, and looking out for my own best interest."

"I'm scared that I need _you_ a lot more than you will ever need me." He shrugged, studying his hands, not able to bring himself to look at her and judge her reaction to his complete surrender.

She left him hanging in limbo for a long minute while she considered his words.

"Only you, tin-man, could ever decide that the best way to deal with the realization that you care whether someone lives or dies... was to never tell them for fear that they'd use it against you." Deunan summarized his internal-conflict remarkably well, for having only had a few moments to wrap her head around the sum and total of his folly. She sighed in audible frustration. "I don't know whether to kiss you, or punch you... honestly... you're such an idiot..."

"Do I get a vote?" He tried to make a joke of her tired declaration. The way she described it? She sounded as though she thought he was a complete coward. Briareos rested his forehead in his hands, conceding that he _hadn't_ been acting particularly 'brave' lately.

"No." Deunan stated flatly. "You don't."

She sighed again, shifting so as to stretch her legs out in front of her as she passed judgment on his inadequacies. "You know what I think, Briareos?"

Briareos had to laugh at that, huffing in chagrined amusement at his predicament. "No... I've pretty much come to the conclusion over the years, girl, that I seldom have any idea what you're thinking..."

Deunan snorted, joining him in cynical mirth. "Well, at least you're honest." She rested her weight on her hands, looking out at the sky.

"I can't help but think, handsome. That you don't trust me. I don't know that you've ever trusted me." She grimaced, seeming resigned to it. "Because if you did. You would _know_ that I wouldn't use something like that against you. That I _couldn't_."

She stood up with a noise of annoyance, leaning against the railing instead. "Damn it, Briareos! If you don't know by now how much I need you. How much I've always _needed_ you... Then you're the stupidest man alive. I swear to god. I _know_ I've told you so. So either you weren't listening, which pisses me off. Or you didn't believe me. Which pisses me off worse! Which is it?"

"People change, Deunan." He offered the weak defense. "You needed me as a child, for a while. But that was a long time ago. Back before-"

"If you say 'before I became a cyborg', so help me, I _will_ hit you." She cut him off, turning around to glare at him with her back resting against the rails. "When will you get it through that thick, stupid head of yours, that I don't give a shit about you being a fucking cyborg!"

"Maybe I do." He pointed out gently. "Besides, this isn't really about that, or at least, mostly not about that. Even you have to admit, you need me less now than ever, Deunan. I mean look at what you did tonight. You're better than I ever was. You're a natural. Do you know that? You just took down two cyborgs _alone_, girl. Do you have any idea how outrageous that is? I wouldn't have dared to pull a stunt like that in my _prime_, Deunan."

"You're in your prime now." She pointed out, finding humor in her own statement. "You're only thirty-seven, you know. You're not that old."

"I feel old." He admitted. "I'm only going to get older. Pretty soon, it's not going to be just theoretical anymore, Deunan. It's going to be a fact. Cyborg or not, I won't be able to keep up with you when you go charging in like a madwoman. I'll be too slow. Too late. I won't be there to catch you if you slip, and you'll die, wondering why the hell I wasn't where you needed me to be."

"Christ. That's what you think about before every mission?" Deunan crossed to stand in front of him, forcing him to look up and face her at last. Her expression was haunted. "Briareos... That's... not healthy."

"I know." He found he couldn't match her stare for long, "And for the record? I trust you as much as I trust anyone. So it's not that I don't trust you. I just am really _really_ bad, at showing it. Apparently."

"For a guy who claims to need me so much it hurts, you sure spend a lot of time pushing me away." She sighed, reaching out to run her fingers along his head and neck.

"I don't want to need you this much." He offered, wincing belatedly at how bad it sounded when said aloud.

Deunan let her hand drop, annoyed all over again. "Sorry to be such an inconvenience for you."

"Deunan..."

"No. It's fine. Forget it. You've made your position perfectly clear." Deunan snapped, turning back to the city. "I'm just one giant fucking burden for you! I get it! So why stick around if you're so miserable! There's nothing keeping you here. You can leave any time you want. You've always made sure of that, haven't you..."

"You're not a burden." He protested, reaching for her. Predictably, she shook him off. Briareos sighed, letting his hand fall, not wanting to push his luck. Stupid, he told himself, to finally get her to unbend a little only to stick his big foot in his mouth again. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"I think you did." Deunan slouched forward to rest her forehead on the railing. "I mean... let's face it. We both know you've been pissed at me lately. I take too many risks. I make bad decisions. I don't call for backup. I waste money buying stupid things. I'm a terrible cook. I dress like a tramp. I read juvenile magazines. I have shit taste in music. And all my friends are annoying. Please let me know if I'm missing one, it's hard to keep track with you barking at me every day. I do listen, you see... I'm a fuck up, and you're tired of me. It's ok. I can't blame you. If I were you I'd be tired of me too. This whole relationship bullshit has been my idea all along anyway, you were always just humoring me."

"You're not a fuck up, and I'm not pissed, and I haven't been _humoring_ you all this time." Briareos disagreed in growing concern. "I just as much told you so not two seconds ago, and you say _I_ never listen? I need you, and I want to _fix_ this thing between us, Deunan, but I don't know how!"

He shook his head. Typical that she'd only throw his complaints back at him. How was that fair? Then again, what in any of their recent conversations had been fair? They'd used to have real arguments, he reminded to himself. Actual arguments, with give and take, and one of them talking the other into a better understanding of the situation; those were something else that had also been lost over the years. He sighed feeling the urge to give up at the magnitude of the work ahead of them. "Do you even want to fix this? Or have you already decided you're done with me?"

Deunan simply stared at him again, expression haunted as she weighed his words. "What do you mean?"

"Say the word, girl." He offered, his cybernetics aching sympathetically with the very real sense of sickness rising from this still-organic core at the risk he was taking, the suddenly very real possibility that in trying to talk things through with her, he'd just made them exponentially worse. "If you're done, then I won't bother you anymore. Alright? I owe you that much. For everything I've put you through over the years. Say the word. And I'll go."

"What...?" She blinked at him again.

"I may be a cyborg, Deunan, but I'm not blind." He shrugged. "If you need some time... without me in your hair, well, I understand. Alright? I won't blame you for it."

"And you'd just... go?" She whispered harshly. "Just like that?"

"If that was what you wanted." He agreed defeated. "I never wanted to make you unhappy, girl. I still don't, so..."

"What do you want?" She rubbed her face with her hands. "God damn you, Briareos, just- for once in your life- can you be honest with me and tell me what you want? Instead of constantly deferring to me?"

"What I want doesn't matter." He disagreed. "Deunan..."

"It _does_ matter." She slapped her hands against the railing, suddenly furious. "Jesus, Bri! When you say what you want doesn't matter, do you know what that says to me? It says he doesn't fucking care, Deunan, so do whatever the hell you want, it's all the same to him so long as you quit your bitching. Is that what you're telling me?"

"No!" He blinked at the way she twisted his words back at him. 'That's not what I said at all!"

"Then what do you want?!" She cried in frustration.

"I want you to be happy!" Briareos barked back, feeling his temper rise to match hers. "I want you to be happy _with me_. I want you to stay alive long enough that we can be happy... together." He pressed his mouth closed around the unplanned declaration. So much for his promise to himself to not shout at her. Part of him couldn't help but see the humor in it. Somehow she always did manage to bring out the best and worst in him. Maybe the alcohol had been a bad idea after all.

His girl was staring at him again, any evidence of her quick temper gone, replaced by that tight, anxious, wide-eyed look she often got right before the tears started. He raised a hand to her in a vague attempt to offer comfort, but then hesitated, not having the slightest clue what to do that would help. "Deunan..."

"That's what you want?" She asked at last, her voice little better than a croak as she held herself just beyond his outstretched hand. "Really?"

"Well I mean-" He let his arm drop feeling utterly stupid as he studied the floor. There really wasn't anyway to sound less like an idiot at this point. He sighed.

"I want those things too." Deunan agreed softly. Looking up, he wasn't surprised to see her cheeks were wet as she crossed over to join him on the bench again. Leaning sideways into his arm, after a moment's hesitation, she sighed and wiped at her face in annoyance with her tears. "I want _us_ to be happy too, baby."

"Oh." He exhaled with a feeling of tenuous relief. The feel of her pressed against his side was so normal, so utterly undramatic, that it was physically jarring to relax at her touch after being keyed up for the worst for so much of their conversation. Briareos took another breath, trying to figure out just what had happened. Something in all the nonsense he'd been ranting had seemingly... helped? She wanted what he wanted. That was a good thing right? It was someplace to start. "Well. Good. That's good."


	12. Chapter 12

**Promethean Blood - ch 11-**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

"Explain something to me." Deunan wondered aloud after a long moment of shared silent meditation on the horizon. The sky bleached to pale gold in the east as they sat and wearily outside their bedroom. Briareos shrugged next to her, letting her know he was listening if she wanted to take her turn to vent a bit. It was only fair. Reaching across to her with the arm she wasn't leaning against, he dared to rub a knuckle gently along her shoulder in sympathy for her exhaustion.

She sighed as she gathered her thoughts. "Bri, if you're so scared every time I do something potentially hazardous to my health, why encourage me to be a policewoman at all? Why tell me, six months ago that you were disappointed with me not going hell-for-leather when it counted? I mean, you _said_ I wasn't doing _enough_... Didn't you? 'Where is the old war machine I used to know sleeping?' Your words, old man. Not mine... And now you're saying that this whole time I've been doing _too_ much, and you've been freaking out. I am so confused now..."

"It was your dream to be a policewoman." He shrugged helplessly. Briareos knew perfectly well that he guilty of offering conflicting advice over the years. What choice did he have when tasked with both supporting her personal goals, and his own strong desire to ensure her well-being. "Being a policewoman makes you happy... or at least it used to."

"You're telling me that all this time you've encouraged me to do things that scared you, because you didn't want to be my buzz kill?" Deunan's voice held a mix of doubt and incredulity. "You're damned masochist."

"This isn't news." Briareos pointed out.

"Point." She laughed softly at her surprise. "But still, baby. It's kinda cruel, don't you think? To tell me to do something and then punish me for doing it... Do you have any idea how _stressed_ I've been trying to figure out what I needed to do to make _you_ happy?"

"My comment at the time, as I recall it, was in reference to the fact that it was unfair of you to bitch about not wanting to go all out because you didn't trust your teammates when you weren't giving them the same 100% that you wanted them to give you..." He wasn't above leaning on his AI a little to help his hazy memory from months ago. It was cheating perhaps, to rely on the computer to help him win a fight, but what she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

"I never said anything about you killing yourself to prove you were _better_ than them. I just wanted you to _participate_ more... like you used to, back in LA. Be one of the gang instead of holding yourself apart... Apparently... that's not what you heard though." Briareos rubbed the back of his head, chagrined all over again at how long the misunderstanding had lasted.

"No... that wasn't what I heard at all." Deunan agreed, rubbing at her face with both hands as she too seemed to be trying to sort out what between them was genuine disagreement and what was just bad phrasing. "Jesus, Bri. I wish you'd just said _that_. Then I would have understood..."

"It never occurred to me that I wasn't being clear." He slouched next to her, suddenly able to see the almost-forgotten conversation from her perspective. He'd been challenging her on her lackluster emotional commitment, but all she'd heard was a complaint about her physical capability? He shook his head that they ever managed to understand each other at all.

Briareos shrugged as he tried to belatedly explain. "At first, I figured you were just self-conscious, getting back into a team after so long roughing it in the badlands with me. But it's been almost a year, girl, and you still barely know people's names, much less spend any time with any of them. These ESWAT guys – and gals – are a bit more of a mixed bag in regards to personalities... but they're good people too. They'd be happy to get a bit closer to you, if you'd let them. I've never heard anyone say anything but praise about you, and believe me, I'm a champion eavesdropper these days. So why are you so stubborn about letting yourself relax with them, huh?"

"LA was different." She admitted at last. He could hear the sadness in her voice as she remembered better days. Briareos dared to shift his arm so he could hold her against his side companionably.

"You knew them pretty well by the time you got tapped for the team." He acknowledged the truth of it with playful understatement. She'd practically been _raised_ by the old SWAT team. She'd known them like they were family.

Maybe that was a clue, Briareos mused quietly. Deunan had witnessed the near-total destruction of her last 'family' during the war. Their old teammates had either died or disappeared one after the other until they seemed to be the last ones left. Suddenly it kind of made sense why she'd be hesitant to allow herself to care about a new bunch of people. Probably she was betting herself, even if only subconsciously, that she'd lose this crew too. He'd heard her use the word 'jinx' to describe herself on more than one occasion when it came to the people around her dying. First her mother and brothers, then her friends...? Hell, he was almost one of the tally for a while. It only made sense that she'd be gun-shy about going through it all again.

Briareos gave her a supportive squeeze. "I know it's not always easy for you, Deunan, to make friends... But I know you'd like these guys too, if you let yourself trust them a little more. They won't let you down. And if they do? I'll be there too. You don't have to be a super woman, alright? Just... be _you_. Let the team have a little slack to pick up so they can feel useful too, if nothing else. Ok?"

"I guess." She sighed again, seeming not convinced. At least she wasn't angry anymore. He sighed and looked at the tree lined park just visible through the apartment blocks on the next street. There were already joggers out. The true early birds were trying to get some exercise in before the sidewalks grew crowded with everyone else preparing for the day. Deunan shuffled closer to his side as she too relaxed at last, shifting her legs so that they were folded next to her on the bench rather than forming a wall between her and the world. "What are we going to do, Bri? I'm so tired... and Lance is going to want some kind of - I don't know - explanation, and I just don't-"

"To hell with Lance." He decided, suddenly annoyed by the idea that anyone else had any business adding to the mess they were already dealing with. "He can wait. We'll tell him that we needed our damned sleep and that we'll get him a flowchart of our progress, or whatever he wants, later. He has nothing to do with fixing _this_, so forget him."

"Ok." She huffed with laughter at his outburst. "Can I tell him you said that?"

"Only if you want to run the next few ops alone because your partner has been benched for insubordination." He teased back, rubbing his face. "I think we just have to face it, girl. This whole mess... it's too big to fix in just one day."

"Yeah." Deunan agreed softly. "It kinda feels that way."

"So, that's fine." He pointed out the obvious. "We don't stress out trying to fix it in a day. We fix it little-by-little, and we try really hard to not make it worse. Then before you know it, we'll be fine again. Ok?"

"How?" His girl found the flaw in his tentative plan immediately. Briareos sighed, finding he wasn't feeling particularly up to the task of being brilliant at the moment. With panic averted, the need for sleep – even with the expectation of nightmares – was strong.

"We get back to basics." He offered at last. "Get our old rules back in rotation, for one. And... I dunno. We make a conscious effort, to be happier. I guess."

Deunan nodded against him as she gave the idea due thought. "I like that... I'm tired of being unhappy."

"Yeah. Me too."

He turned his face into her hair. Something in the freshly washed scent of her was inspiring. He toyed with the idea for several long minutes as they sat in companionable silence, weighing pros and cons, along with the relative level of 'crazy' in what he was about to propose. He could see the novelty of it tickling his girl's fancy, if nothing else. "Deunan? I want to ask you to do something for me."

"... like what?" She tensed next to him as she heard his request.

"Sit up a moment. I need to fetch some things." He kissed her lightly on the head and stood as soon as she was disentangled. It took a minute to scrounge sufficient pens and paper from the junk on their dresser, but in short order he found what he needed, pressing some scrap and a writing implement into her startled hands. "Here."

Deunan, predictably, looked at him as if he had two heads, first examining her blank scrap, and then looking at his as he settled down beside her. "Ok... now I'm just confused again."

"Bear with me." Briareos encouraged her. "Small steps, right?"

"Right." She still had a worried expression, but she was too curious to know what he was up to to be annoyed yet.

He took a breath to try and find the words to make his request sound somewhat less ridiculous. "Deunan, if there was one thing. Just one thing that I could do to make you happier on a day-to-day basis. Do you know what it would be?"

Seeing her look of blank surprise, he tried to clarify. "If you could correct one thing I'm doing wrong, girl, preferably... some _fix_ that I can start doing right away without turning both our lives completely upside down. Could you write it down? I mean, of all the things I do regularly to pissed you off, is there one thing that means enough to you that you'd be willing to trade me for- for something that meant a lot to me?"

"What?" Deunan blinked again at his proposal. "What are you talking about?"

"Write it down." He gestured to the pen in her hand. "I'll do the same. That way neither of us can say that we changed our answer because of the other. Alright? We'll write down something small that the other can do, starting tomorrow, that would make us measurably happier, and we'll trade..."

"This is dumb." His girl blurted after another incredulous pause to think. Staring at him, and then at the scrap of envelope in her hands, she seemed perplexed by the whole concept. "Bri, what are we doing?"

"Fixing this." He stated emphatically. "Look. We both suck at talking, right?"

"Right." She agreed slowly, not looking particularly pleased by the fact.

Briareos nudged her shoulder to get her attention again. "And neither of us ever seems to hear what the other is saying, right?"

Deunan stared up at him, frowning. "Sure."

"So we should do what we _are_ good at." Briareos insisted, more confident by the moment that it was right. "Stop over-thinking and just act. Because if we can just fix _one_ small thing, girl, I can't help but think, that maybe we can find a way to fix the rest too."

"O-ok." She stared down at the blank piece of paper. "One small thing, huh?"

"That you're willing to trade me for. Yeah." He agreed, carefully not looking at what she was writing as he considered his own note. Briareos didn't need long to think. On the one hand, he considered his request, he wasn't exactly sure whether it was something 'small' he was asking for, or something huge. In terms of daily effort, it was next to nothing, he figured. But actually doing it? He wasn't sure his girl would be able to without a real change to her world view.

He watched Deunan out of his peripheral lenses as she slowly worked on her own note, her face unusually blank as she meditated on her choice. It was a little unfair, Briareos mused, to make her produce with almost no-notice when he'd been pondering some variation on the question for months. But, he figured, knowing his girl? There were likely axes she'd been holding off grinding for years now. All she had to do was write down one of those.

Deunan set her pen aside after barely a sentence's worth of letters, staring at what she'd written with a slightly more readable expression. Exhaustion, he picked up on easily enough, sadness, but also a touch of humor? Whatever she'd written, she'd found it funny somehow. He looked down at his own words and sighed. Saccharine they might be, but he meant them in all seriousness.

"Now what. Do we trade?" Deunan asked softly as she folded her scrap in half. "Flip a coin and see who get's their wish?"

"We trade." He agreed slowly, accepting her offering and holding his out in return. "And since this was my stupid idea. I'll go first, if that's ok with you. Mine may need some explaining."

Briareos hadn't bothered to fold his, just passed her the note as is. Deunan was obliged to turn it right way up and hold it to the light to read it for herself. "Value your life as much as I do."

Blinking slowly, Deunan re-read his request to herself with a growing frown. "Bri... I don't-"

"Just listen. Ok?" He shook his head, not wanting this to be yet another useless fight. "Listen to me, girl. You... You matter. Alright? You. Deunan. You are unique, irreplaceable. And not just as a squad-mate, or as a policewoman or as a soldier or any of the things you can _do_. I'm talking about you as a person. Your life has value."

Deunan frowned and looked up at him. "You think I don't give a shit whether I live or die? Really? Because, I've got to tell you, big guy. I've got a vested interest in living. You don't need to worry about me."

"I guess you just have a funny way of showing it." He looked out through the railing at the neighborhood below them. "Because Deunan, that line you usually walk on the edge of? Lately it feels like you've been vaulting over it at least twice a day. "

Briareos shrugged again, turning to match her curious stare. "And I'm left wondering, girl. What are you trying to prove? To whom? Because if it's to the team? You've done that. They're convinced!" Seeing her half-smile at his announcement he nudged her gently with his elbow to bring his point home.

"And if it's Lance, then hell girl. Let it go. There's no need to try to make him think you're super-human. You're human. He knows that, and he's fine with it. Otherwise he wouldn't have hired you. Hell, if he wants a 'super human'... he's only got six or seven of 'borgs he can call on when he needs one." Briareos tilted his extendibles back in defeated humor at the idea of being thought of as anyone's 'super man'. Glancing over at Deunan's once again impassive face, he framed his thoughts as carefully as he could.

"And if- if you're doing this out of some need to impress _me_, girl, then shit. I really wish you wouldn't. Knowing you can take down a cyborg with your bare hands doesn't make me happier. What _would_ make me happier, Deunan, is knowing that you spare half a thought for me, and for _yourself_, before diving headlong into things on an op."

He exhaled slowly. "I guess that's what I want from you, girl. I want to be let in on your plans _before_ you take off and leave me in the dust. Take pity on your partner, ok? I'm not getting any younger. My reaction times are only going to get worse from here on. I need a hint or two, if I'm supposed to keep up."

"You want me to look before I leap?" Deunan snorted softly. "Not asking for much, are you..."

"I didn't say it would be easy." He agreed slowly. "Just that it was small. I'm not asking you to not leap, girl. That would be like asking you to stop breathing. I just- I need some sign from you, that you've got a plan. Any plan. Preferably one that doesn't involve you getting killed in the process."

"Shit, Bri." It was her turn to rub her hands over her head as she considered his request. "It's not that I don't want to say 'sure baby, anything for you.' But you have to understand, we're talking about me changing something that I do on instinct! I mean, heat-of-the-moment, reacting to the flow of the battle type stuff. It's all well and good to say 'I'll try' when there's nothing else going on, but if I'm being shot at? The last thing that'll be on my mind is 'oh wait, need to give my partner a mission brief before I get in there and stop the bad guys from killing us'..."

"I'd be a hell of a lot more effective, in _helping_ you get in there to stop them, if you did." He offered tiredly. "You're not a rookie anymore girl, you can afford the ten seconds it takes to formulate a plan and communicate it to me. It's just a matter of making it a habit, that's all."

"Habit, huh?" She rested her chin on her arms. "Ok. Ok, baby, you win. I'll try. I can't promise I'll get it right, but I can see how it sucks for you when I don't... So... hell, if it means that much to you, I'll fucking have to try, won't I."

"Thank you." He shuttered his eyes, enjoying the momentary victory. Feeling almost optimistic he dared to relax backwards against the wall of their balcony, hearing the bench creak with his shifting weight.

Deunan was studying his note thoughtfully, folding and unfolding the scrap of paper as if trying to read something further into his short message, carefully not looking at him as he gathered his thoughts. She was waiting, he realized belatedly, for him to read the note he'd been crushing between his fingers this whole time.

He looked down at the now wrinkled scrap of paper. Moment of truth, he told himself, wondering what it was he was about to have thrown at him. She could have asked for anything he mused, he really couldn't guess.

"Can I read mine now?" He hesitated to just assume she was ready to issue her challenge.

Deunan kept her eyes on the horizon as she nodded. "Sure, why not."

With such an unenthusiastic endorsement, he figured he might as well. Over sized fingers proved to be less than advantageous in undoing the mess he'd made of the small paper. Still once opened, he found he still couldn't quite wrap his head around the meaning of the pair of words. He read the aloud to be certain he wasn't missing something. "Be Kind...?"

Turning the note over he wondered if there was further explanation on the back. There wasn't. Looking up he caught Deunan's shoulders shaking with tired mirth as she caught him checking. "Deunan... what do you mean, 'be kind'?"

"Just what I wrote." She shrugged, expression growing serious again. "I want you to be kind to me."

"You're implying... that I'm not?" The urge to call her on the ridiculous idea damned near choked him. Still, she'd been good enough to deal with his ultimatum with polite-if-incredulous questions, so he was rather obliged to do the same. "I- Deunan... am I allowed to ask in what way I'm _not_ kind?"

"You have a habit, handsome, of making a girl feel about an inch and a half tall." Deunan looked away as she spoke, unwilling to face him head on. "I don't think you mean to. Hell, if you did, it'd be easy. I'd tell you to go fuck yourself and leave, but you don't. You just say things that really hurt a girl's feelings. And I am stuck having to decide whether I want to cry about it, or whether I just write it off as Bri-being-Bri, and try and forget it."

She grimaced to herself. "I want to feel, that I'm worth the effort, from you, to say nice things to every once in a while."

"Deunan." Briareos felt even more lost at the pronouncement than he had on reading her note. "Of course you're worth the effort. You can't honestly think I don't appreciate you, do you? That's a bit melodramatic isn't it?"

"I think we've both agreed at this point, that while I may in fact want to live. I am apparently shitty at showing it. Ok?" She smiled cynically to herself as she let him vent.

"Yeah. That was the gist." He nodded slowly.

"Well maybe this is the same thing." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe you appreciate me like crazy... you're just bad at letting me know." Deunan shrugged again. "Or maybe you're actually totally indifferent to me, but it's more convenient to lie, than it is to dump me and go through the bother of finding another girl who is willing to move in and do your laundry. "

"I- Deunan... I'm sorry but I'm not following any of this." There was no question that she felt he'd been failing her somehow. Sure they'd had their fights, but she'd given as good as she'd got. Hadn't she? What was he supposed to do just stand there and be chewed on? Despite the urge to protest, he couldn't deny the sour taste of guilt at the back of his throat. "How have I not been kind?"

Deunan closed her eyes and smiled bitterly. "It's not that you're being intentionally cruel, baby. You just have a way of saying things... that makes me wonder whether you'd rather I was someone else. That's all. Sometimes I get the impression that I've overstayed my welcome."

"You haven't." He offered weakly. "Can you give me a for-instance, at least? Deunan, I don't know how to fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong. What am I doing wrong?"

"If I have to explain..." She sighed tiredly. "Fine, I'll put it to you as a question - a real one - an honest-to-god question where I really want you to think hard about the answer, ok?"

"Ok." He agreed, hoping to feel less confused. "Ask."

"Briareos, when did you last say something nice to me? And what was it?" She turned to look at him at last, dropping one of her feet back to the floor so that she could twist on the bench to meet his stare. "Anything will do."

"The last time I- said something nice?"

"Saying something sarcastically doesn't count. Nor does anything physical... I'm talking _words_ here." She added some disclaimers. "I want to you to tell me when the last time you _said_ something nice, and meant it. Something along the lines of, 'Well done, Deunan', or... 'your hair looks cute today', or hell, I'd even settle for something as weak as 'Nice shot'... anything like that. When was the last time you said it?"

Briareos stared at her in blank amazement at the question. She wanted him to inventory his complements? Who kept track of something like that? He had to say shit like that easily every day of the week just as part of their normal idle banter during work. Her expression told him that she was waiting for an answer. He sighed and wracked his brains for a likely example. The past twenty-four hours, he realized quickly, weren't going to be very likely for such endearments. If he'd told her six hours ago that her hair looked pretty, he' have likely received a punch to the face for his efforts.

Briareos tried to remember what they'd done the day before. Or before that. There'd been a lot of chasing cyborgs, and a lot of getting yelled at by Lance, but no real chances to talk. Surely on their most recent day off...? Even then, they'd made small talk, squabbled a bit, but he couldn't remember anything concrete that might count.

As the silence drew longer he began to suspect that the fact that it took him this long to find a counter-proof to her question didn't bode particularly well. Desperation caused a few neurons to fire belatedly. "I complemented you on your outfit tonight, didn't I? I showed appreciation..."

"You said, and I quote. 'Jesus I forgot you owned that'." She pointed out without even needing to pause and think. He cringed at the idea that she'd already thought of it, and discarded the praise as insufficient. Deunan stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Pretty weak. Don't you think? I figured you were trying to be nice... but it could just as easily have been an 'I can't believe you wore that out in public, I'm so ashamed of you'..."

"It was the former." Briareos offered, cringing again at the idea that his words could be so badly misunderstood. When had he ever been seriously ashamed of her wearing something? "Definitely the former."

"Can you think of anything else?" She asked, looking more tired by the minute. "Even one other time in the past week?"

The feeling of guilt was definitely beginning to out-run his earlier shock at the accusation. Part of him still couldn't believe her demand was fair. The other part of him was amazed in hindsight at himself. Had he really not...? It seemed impossible. There had to have been something that he was just too tired to think of. He'd _thought_ complementary things about his girl hundreds of times in recent memory. But how many of them had he actually said aloud? He honestly couldn't remember.

"I'm getting the sense that an apology might be in order." He exhaled slowly. "Deunan, have I really been that much of a dick lately?"

"You can't think of anything can you." She stated sadly. "I mean, I guess that's good, in a sense, it means I'm not just a hysterical female who can't remember things right."

"Deunan..." He tried to think of something to justify his recent obliviousness but couldn't speak fast enough to get a word in edgewise with his woman.

"Another question for you." She rested her head on her hand. "Since you can't answer my first. How many times in the past week, let's say, have you told me that I'm wrong, or stupid, or late, or otherwise reminded me that I'm a general failure at life?"

Briareos saw the game she was playing as soon as the question was asked. "I'm betting I've said something to that effect more than once..."

"Think about it." She goaded him. "How many times?"

"Deunan, I- When we're in the middle of a fight I'm going to stay stupid things... We both do. It doesn't mean-"

"How about when we're not fighting?" She stared at him, unwilling to let him offer excuses. "Maybe we're just talking. Ho-hum everyday conversation. How many times have you said something like 'Don't' to me? 'Not now, Deunan', or 'Leave it alone,' or hell just ignored me, because that's super convenient isn't it? Why say anything at all when you can just pretend I don't exist..."

"That's not fair." He denied.

"Don't you think it's kinda... not surprising? That I do stupid things all the time? I mean you keep saying it. It must be true, right?" She snorted at her own joke. "It's getting so that I'm actually looking forward to spending time with assholes like Sokak, do you know that? At least he says nice things to me when we meet. Sure he's probably lying, but he takes the trouble to sound good while he's doing it."

"Deunan, if I've been such an ass lately why haven't you said anything?" He protested softly.

"And give you more ammunition to throw back at me?" She snorted mirthlessly. "No thanks. Then I'd be incompetent, _and_ bitchy. No thanks."

"Telling me to not be an asshole shouldn't qualify as 'bitchy', girl." Briareos pointed out grimly. "If you don't like something I'm doing, you have every right to call me on it."

"So it's my fault that you're a dick to me. That's what you're saying." Deunan sighed. "Thanks. I'll add that to the list of complements for the week, shall I?"

"That's not what I meant!" He wished he could tug on his non-existent hair, listening to how his words seemed to twist in meaning when she paraphrased them back at him. "Listen to what I'm _saying_ Deunan, not what you want to hear!"

"I'm listening now." She offered pragmatically. "So talk. What do you have to say to me..."

"I- I don't know." He admitted. "Deunan, what do you want me to say? Because it's obvious that whatever I am saying? It isn't working for you. So you tell me, what do you want me to say, and I'll say it. Alright?"

"Be kind." She repeated aloud what she'd written earlier. "That's what I want, Briareos. That's all I want. I want you to be kind to me. I want to feel, every once in a while, like you genuinely enjoy spending time with me... That there's some _small_ thing that I am, or I do, that you actually _like_, without having to apply fourteen qualifiers and ten exceptions to."

"Deunan, I didn't know you felt this way, alright?" Briareos disagreed. "I didn't know that you were thinking that I was bored. I get frustrated, sure. I know you do too. But that doesn't mean I want this to end, or that I want you to cringe every time I say something to you. I mean, I'm not going to say _nothing_ girl, if I see you about to make a mistake, or pretend to like eating a charcoal briquette when I was hoping for a steak. If I can't make fun of your cooking, mealtimes are going to get mighty quiet around here, right?"

It was not a good time for a joke, he decided. Briareos hunkered down under her flat stare with a sense that he was going to be sleeping on the couch for a long time. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"Maybe." She sighed. "If I thought you meant it? I mean a little criticism now and again? A little teasing? Sure, I'm a big girl, I can take it. But it's not a little, old man, and it's every day lately. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of having to second guess every other thing you say to me wondering if you actually mean it as meanly as it sounds, or if you just think you're being clever when you're not."

"Ouch." He sighed. "Well, for what it's worth, thank you for telling me." He rubbed his head. "I had no idea, girl. No idea at all." Looking over at her he sighed again seeing that his confession wasn't doing much to help his case. Being oblivious to how much of an asshole you were being just made you more of an asshole, he supposed. "Be kind, huh?"

"Yeah." She agreed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Promethean Blood - ch 12 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

"Be kind, huh?"

"Yeah." She agreed.

Briareos rubbed his chin as he considered his girl carefully, on the surface the demand was simple enough. Unfortunately that made it a little difficult to quantify whether he was doing it right or not. It wasn't terribly romantic to ask for some guidelines to measure himself against, but he wasn't sure that he had all that much of a choice. Clearly he wasn't the best person to judge 'kind' in her eyes, so better to just ask before blundering around again. "Can we set some parameters on this? I mean, what exactly does 'be kind' mean, to you? There's the obvious, where I stop teasing you about things that you'd rather I didn't. But what else? Do I complement your work? Your appearance? How often? Are there things you'd rather I not talk about?"

She stared at him in tired amusement. "... And this is why I never said anything."

"What do you mean?"

"Telling you what nice things I want you to say to me just makes me feel like I'm training a pet parrot." Deunan sighed. "If I have to tell you to be appreciative of me, and then tell you _how_ to be appreciative of me... then what's the point? If you don't feel it, or aren't inspired to say it, I don't want you lying about it."

"It wouldn't be lying, girl." Briareos felt obliged to defend himself again.

He reached out to shake her knee. "Deunan... Do me a huge favor, ok? Imagine that instead of talking to a well adjusted fellow human right now? You're talking to a guy who learned what little he knows about successful interpersonal relationships from badly translated old Hollywood movies, ok? Because however normal you are kind enough to assume I am...? At the end of the day that's pretty much what you've got to work with. So with that in mind, just tell me what you want? I may be a little stupid at times, but I'd like to think I can be trained better than a parrot..."

Briareos gently shook her again to emphasize his point. "For the record, I _want_ you to feel I appreciate you. I thought I _was_ appreciating you. The message just wasn't getting through, apparently. And I'm a bit worried at this late stage in the game, that if I fuck it up in trying to do a better job of this, I'm just going to make everything that much worse. So you need to tell me... what do you want from me? And how often? I mean are we talking one complement an hour? A day? Am I allowed to say whatever comes to mind? Or should I avoid commenting on your butt because it makes you self-conscious?"

Deunan had to blink at that. He felt marginally better on seeing her trying to get her head around to where he was coming from. He should take it as a complement, he supposed, that his girl could forget, that he was anything but a fundamentally damaged human-being, even without the added complication that being a cyborg had brought to his life. He wondered if Deunan ever truly understood, just how feral his childhood had been. It wasn't something he really _wanted_ her to understand. But still, at times like this? Her casual assumptions, that he knew what a guy was supposed to do or say, were a bit awkward. It was all well and good to say he understood the theory of complementing a girlfriend, but if he said something cliche, and she decided he was forcing himself to be nice? That would be the worst kind of misunderstanding by far. He didn't want to get shot for mistakenly patronizing her, and he suspected he very well might at the rate he was going.

His girl drew a slow breath and let it out as she conceded to his point. "How about once a week?" She briefly looked over at him for his opinion before losing her nerve again. "It'd be nice, at the end of the week, if I could look back and remember one good thing you said to me. To make up for all the rest..."

Looking down at her hands, she shrugged. "It doesn't have to be anything fancy or specific. Just, say something nice. Once a week. That'd be enough. An 'I'm happy you're here', would be fine. Then you could scold to your heart's content."

It was amazing, he mused, how hearing her say something so innocuous could make him feel like he'd been punched in the chest.

This was what she figured was a fair trade for him making her change something that was damn near a trademark of her fighting career? One lame complement? Once in a while? He sighed. It was too easy a thing for her to trade for his request. Trust his girl, he realized, to always sell herself short, when it came to stuff like this.

He let himself sag forward, resting his elbows on knees, as he digested the magnitude of his blindness. Somehow everything that had been confusing and terrifying him about their uneven dynamic lately suddenly started to make sense.

She was brash and loud and crazy on the outside, everyone knew this. But for good or ill, she was still very much the girl she'd always been, on the inside. Scared that nobody truly wanted her, but instead was just putting up with her as an obligation. In that sense, he supposed her inner world-view wasn't all that much less messed up than his own. It was part of what had drawn him to her in the first place.

Just because she'd grown adept over the years at reading his silence, he realized, didn't mean he could get lazy and not damned well _say_ something once in a while, for her sake. It was just so much damn easier, to _show_ her how he felt than trying to find the right words to say it. After all this time? He'd kind of figured that she understood was wasn't being said when he touched her, or let her touch him. The fact that she would curl against him in the night, and that he welcomed her closeness, _meant_ something.

Was she right? Had he dropped the ball that badly recently? She needed more than just subtle cues. She always had. So when had he forgotten that? They'd had _some_ good time since coming to Olympus, he was certain that it hadn't all been misery for her, but lately the general trend hadn't been a good one. When _was_ the last time he'd remembered to tell her, to her face, how much he appreciated having her around? He was certain he must have done it at some point in the past few months, but it was hard to pin down a definite moment. No wonder she was pissed.

"One nice thing a week, huh?" He looked over at her, marveling at her minimal demand. "Let's make it one a day, huh? Just to keep things fair. That'll make it at least as challenging as my request for you."

"Yeah well, I get to take it easy on days I'm not getting shot at." She smiled cynically. "Sure you don't want time off to rest up between complements?"

"I'm sure." He nudged her knee again, offering the gesture of affection out of habit before mentally kicking himself that there was no time like the present to make a change. "So, will you cut me some slack if I screw up and come off sounding like a moron sometimes? I think we both can agree, I'm out of practice at this."

Deunan's smile became a little warmer at the question. She nodded to herself. "Sure. For one complement a day? I think I can give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Deal." He reached out to squeeze her again. "In that case I'm starting now, alright?"

That at least got her to look at him again, he plunged in before his more cynical instincts could stop him from making an ass of himself. "I think you're beautiful."

"... what?" She was still blinking in shock at his agreement with her demand, never mind the rest. He shook his head at how pathetically out of practice they both were. He tried again.

"You, girl, are beautiful. I know I never say it. But I swear to you, I am _thinking_ it. I think it every time I wake up next to you... and a couple more times at random throughout any given day. You're beautiful, and I'm damned lucky to have you. You're beautiful even with the bruises and the split-lip, so don't go being embarrassed that I'm saying it now, and not when you're done up to the hilt on a Saturday night, alright? " He read her protest before she could verbalize it, catching her hands when she might have waved him off.

"The thing about your beauty, Deunan, is that it's not just the shape of your face, or the color of your eyes. Because, honestly, I think we could clone you and the other girl still wouldn't be as attractive to me. What makes you beautiful is the part of you that's _you_ coming out through this particular face. Which, now that I say it out loud,just sound weird and kind of creepy." He had to laugh at himself at how much of a mess of it he was making. He couldn't help it. "I'm sorry girl, we both know I'm shit at this. Just, if you were ever wondering, Now you know. Alright?"

"Oh." She sniffed, eyes wet again with gathering tears. "Ok."

"That good enough for now?" Briareos almost laughed again at the way she nodded mutely. It was sad, honestly, how hearing something nice could inspire his girl to cry about as easily as when he yelled at her. There was just no winning. He wondered if she knew what a mixed message that was. Reaching up he carefully wiped her cheek with is thumb. "Stop that girl. You know it freaks me out when you cry."

"I'm sorry." She turned away to scrub at her face with her palms, "I'm just-"

"It's ok." He leaned forward to press his forehead against her shoulder while she got a grip on herself. "I think I'm starting to understand."

She turned to nestle closer to him, which only meant she was pressing her cheek to his head instead of looking away. He closed his eyes at the feel of her hands coming up to cup his jaw and neck, gently caressing the plates and cables of his neck.

"Just tell me one thing before we call this conversation done, ok?" He asked softly. "Is part of your whole new being-super-cop-even-if-it-kills-me attitude at work lately because of me? I mean, if this has been your way of - I don't know - trying to get some kind of positive feedback out of me... Then I'm sorry. Truly."

Deunan sighed, slouching against him slowly. "I-I don't know, baby. Not consciously, I think. But- maybe? I- I'll try to be less crazy from now on."

"Less crazy is all I ask." He tilted his face to kiss her shoulder. "I'm not asking for you to not be crazy, girl. I _like_ your crazy. Just... not too much. Ok?"

"Ok." She nodded.

He breathed the scent of her for several long moments, telling his lingering anxieties to leave off for a while. She smelled good, her short shower removing the stale scents of the club along with the majority of the bruise-gel the medics had slathered her in. He couldn't remember the first time he realized that he actually liked his girl's scent. It was just one of those things about Deunan that he sort of took for granted at the end of the day; that they could lay together in bed, and he could press his face into her hair and just... feel better. Briareos made a mental note to tell her so, grimly entertained by the idea that he'd already thought up tomorrow's 'complement of the day'. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer along the bench and finally up into his lap where he could nuzzle her properly.

It was far too late, and she was way too bruised, for anything more energetic than some lazy cuddling. Briareos shifted his grip on her until he had his girl tucked comfortably against his shoulder, letting his hands gently chafe her back and thigh. Even if she hadn't been hurt, he wondered whether sex was all that good an idea right now. The revelation that she _hadn't_ been getting the message, when he touched her, of how much he cared for her? Rather called everything physical between them into question lately. Better to just not... not until he was certain they were back on the same page again.

When was the last time, he mused, that she had reached for _him_? When they'd moved in to the new place, sure... the holidays had been rather memorable... but lately? He hugged her tighter, mindful of her bruises, suddenly seeing a whole other explanation for that worrying trend. He'd been blaming Olympus for the change, thinking his girl was getting bored with him now that there was a field to play. But what possible motivation was there for her to invite his attention? If all it meant was one more way for him to be disappointed in her? The pieces all fit together far too easily.

Briareos told himself to stop thinking about it all, for the night. Their problems wouldn't be solved in a day. They'd just whittle at it a while until this mess they'd made was straightened out again. The important thing was recognizing it in the first place.

It was one thing to tell himself to stop worrying, but he suspected it would be significantly harder to actually _do_ it. Deunan was exhausted. He could feel it in the way she lay nearly passive against him despite the fact he had to be all but pinning her with his grip. "I'm sorry." He offered, feeling guilty about that too. Loosening his hold so that she could shift if she wanted, he couldn't help but repeat himself. "I'm sorry, girl."

"It's ok. I'm sorry too."

"No. It's not." He disagreed. "We're supposed to be partners... And I haven't been a good one lately."

"I haven't been bucking for any good-fellowship awards myself." She tiredly tried to make a joke of it. "It'll be ok."

"It will be." Briareos agreed. "Because we're going to fix this." Seeing her nod in agreement, he thanked his lucky stars that she was forgiving enough to give him the chance to try. "And now... I don't know what you want to do, girl, but it's past six am, we're due at work by ten tonight... and I feel like the biggest tool that's ever lived. What do you say we call it a day, huh?"

"Sure." She pushed out of his arms and got to her feet before he could move to carry her to their bedroom. Turning back, she held out a helping hand. Briareos took it, despite the fact that there'd be no way she could actually pull him to his feet. It was the gesture that counted, and it was no less adorable now than it had been the first time she did it. Letting himself be led by the hand, he followed her into the relative warmth of the apartment, and hopefully, to sleep.

* * *

This time it was the shipwreck again followed by a losing battle against the trio of killer-sexbots.

Briareos rubbed his face, studying the ceiling in chagrin as he calmed down from an abrupt waking. Conflicting images of Deunan drowned in her armor, floating in ocean depths, and of her broken and bleeding on bathroom tile teased him long after their initial capacity to shock and terrify was gone. He sighed at the predictability of it, given what they had lived through mere hours and days ago. Still. Dreaming of walking into the tiled women's room at the nightclub, only to see how the walls and even ceiling had been painted in blood... hadn't been any less horrible for the realization that it was only to be expected. By comparison, reliving the shipwreck-gone-wrong for the eighth time was almost boring.

He shuttered his eyes against the vision of his girl's shattered body, her assailant crouching over her, fingers still twisted around her neck. The cyborg's mocking laughter still echoed in his ears as he marveled at his imagination's morbid attention to detail. It had felt so perfectly real. He could remember the damn tile pattern on the floor, the distinctively familiar hiss and pop of the micro radio his partner usually wore when undercover on an op as she'd frantically called to him for help. Where they were, and why exactly he hadn't made it in time, had been left unframed, dream logic at its finest. All he knew was that he _was_ late, tearing down the corridor to get to her, knowing she was in danger, and then the sight of blood, so much blood.

Completely unrealistic, he supposed, trying to defeat his lingering terror with pragmatism. Why would there be blood if the woman had just snapped his partner's neck? Or, alternately, if Agara had already crushed her body to the point where there would _be_ that much blood on the tile... why bother with Deunan's neck at all?

Briareos took a steadying breath, forcing himself to pay attention to reality instead of the fading dream. He was burrowed comfortably in bed. Bright light worked its way through a narrow gap in the curtains, reminding him that they'd only just gone to sleep as the sun was rising. Deunan was a warm solid weight against his shoulder, her arm looped over his chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the pleasant truth of being safe at home with her, only to find himself petted sleepily by the girl he'd assumed was still snoozing. Her fingers caressed his neck soothingly as she shifted against him. "Hey... You ok?"

So much for not disturbing her while she napped. He sighed and rubbed her back beneath the sheet, determined to lull her back to sleep before she could start to worry over him. "Yeah girl, I'm fine... just a dream."

"Nightmare?" Deunan asked softly, shifting some more so that she could prop her arm against his shoulder, and look at his face.

"Yeah." He admitted sheepishly. "Sorry I woke you."

"You've been having a lot of nightmares, lately... haven't you." Deunan's words caused him to flinch, and look at her in the shadows of their bedroom, wondering at how much she already knew vs. what he'd just given away with his reaction. "Bri... why didn't you say something..."

"I- I didn't want to bother you with it." He offered, feeling stupid to be bothering her now. She needed sleep, not another thing to feel responsible for. "You've had enough on your plate already. You still do. Don't worry about me, ok? I'll be fine."

"That's not fair." She sighed, brushing her fingertips along his cheek. "I'm just going to worry anyway. You know that, right? At least this way I'll know _what_ I'm worrying about... as opposed to just assuming it is something else. You've talked to the jokers at the clinic about it? They check you out?"

"Yeah." He closed his eyes, finding it easier to deal with her questions when not confronted with her searching stare at the same time. She was right. He should have told her days ago, when preparing for the damn maritime impound-mission that went inevitably sideways on him.

She'd had a right to know then, in case it could have somehow impacted the mission. But he'd said nothing, blaming the dreams on the stress he'd suffered in preparing for his first command. Pride had kept him quiet then, but after... There's just never seemed to be a good time. Compared to the series of frantic episodes in the following days, those pre-mission jitters had been a walk in the park. Every time he figured he was due for a break, life seemed more than happy to provide fresh fodder to inflict on him in his dreams. With Deunan alternately hurt, or angry, or absent... he hadn't wanted her distracted with anything not directly to do with her own mission objectives, especially given how crazy she'd been acting lately...

Briareos sighed again, realizing that it was yet another example of their recent cycle of feeding into eachother's worst impulses. In not telling her, he'd probably just been encouraging her own anxieties, which then fed back around to him in the form of her unpredictable temper, which then lead him to want to conceal the weakness from her all the more.

"It's not chemical." He offered what good news he could, knowing what she'd be inclined to ask next. "Could be PTSD. Could be the work schedule messing with my rhythm... seasonal-affective disorder, you name it. But whatever it is, it's all me. AI checks out clean."

"Well that's something." Deunan's fingers continued their slow caress of his face and neck. "Did they give you anything to help? Pills? Advice?"

"You know the pills don't work on me." He huffed in tired laughter. "Used them too often when I was younger, now I'm paying the price. The jokers at the clinic had me on one of those damned theta wave machines before I met you at the club... it worked, but... not... well. Suppose I could have a few drinks... but I'd prefer to be clear headed for shift later. I'll be fine girl. You go back to sleep."

"Hmm." His girl rubbed her thumb along his jaw reminding him of his thwarted interest from before. Something about nightmares always made him susceptible to her touch. Maybe it was just that he craved something undeniably _good_ to lose himself in after waking up from an ugly dream. Deunan could be an incredibly versatile distraction at times like this. Sight, scent, taste, touch were all easily satisfied by the variety of stimulus she could offer. Sleepy and willing under his hands she'd often played the role of dream-catcher for him, or at least helped him by being there to soothe away his fears after the fact. Briareos wondered how she'd react to him if he tried to instigate a little intimacy now. Not much, he promised himself. But just to hold her... and perhaps to press his face against her bare skin.

"Want me to make you a cup of cocoa?" She offered sleepily, not seeming offended as he shifted in their bed to cuddle her closer. "Play some music? Close the curtains more?"

"No girl. I'm good."

Deunan tapped her fingers against his temple playfully. "You need to sleep, Bri. You really do."

"I know that." He sighed. "Believe me. I know. And I caught a few hours... I'll be ok. Don't worry about me."

"I'm going to worry." She stated softly, "I just said I would. If I hadn't asked for what I did last night I'd have asked for this... Let me help you, you big idiot. You never ask for it, and it kills me to see you trying to deal with all this shit on your own. I'd _help_, if you let me."

"Don't want to be a bother." He offered in his defense. "Deunan the last thing you need right now-"

"When have I _ever_ said I was bothered by helping you?" She cut him off before he could finish. "Seriously, Briareos. When? It's always me taking help from you, and never giving anything back, you know that? And it sucks. It really sucks. So you know what? Today? Today you don't get a vote. I'm helping you, whether you want me to or not."

"Deunan..." He blinked to find his girl sitting up, pushing blankets back from both of them with sudden energy. "Deunan, now both of us are awake. This is hardly productive..."

"Shut up." She advised smartly, turning her face slightly to hide a yawn as she shook off the last of her sleepy demeanor. "And take off your clothes. Why do you always sleep in clothes? It's not like you get cold..."

"Because we have a history of having of jump out of bed on a minute's notice?" He offered weakly, feeling suddenly out of his depth by her take-charge attitude. Not waiting for him to do for himself, his girl already had his t-shirt over his head and was tugging at his pants. "Because it's no fun for you when you overheat under the quilts and stick to me at night? Deu- girl not to be prudish here, but why are so determined to get my shorts off?"

"Blow job." She stated her goal as if it ought to have been obvious. "It's a hell of a lot easier for me, with your pants off, handsome, but if you're going to be stubborn about it I suppose you can leave them on."

"Blo- did you just..." The conversation had definitely left him behind somewhere, Briareos determined. "Do I get any say in this?"

Deunan exploited his confusion to divest him of his shorts, dropping them over the side of the bed with a sigh. "No. I'm too tired to argue right now. So you're just going to have to trust me. You want to sleep? I want you to sleep. Then _I_ can sleep. Now, lay back, close your eyes, and pop the damned plate so I can do this, ok?"

"That's possibly the most unromantic thing you've ever said to me." He admitted candidly as he did as he was told. He wasn't even sure, now that he was stripped of cloth and metal that he even be able to respond as he ought to. Normally there was at least some attempt to set the mood before they started groping each other. The fact that his girl wasn't bothering to undress as well made it that much more surreal. She honestly expected him to just lay back and play dead while she did all the work? It felt... pretty callous really.

He squirmed at the sudden sensation of her fingers brushing his shaft. It was interesting, it could hardly fail to be interesting, but he really wasn't feeling very amorous at the moment. "Deunan I don't think this is going to work."

"Shows what you know." She laughed softly. "Your eyes closed?"

"Yeah but-"

Deunan didn't let him finish the thought. Briareos found he couldn't remember what he'd been intending to say either, not once his body registered the feel of her mouth against his skin. The warm slide of her tongue was a hard argument to counter, lack of mood or otherwise. Despite the initial awkwardness, Briareos found himself unable to be indifferent to the seductive attention for long. In less time than he thought possible, she had him not just ready, but damned near done. The small fragment of him that still had the capacity for rational thought marveled at how amazing it felt to just lay back and let her take charge. Tomorrow, he figured, he'd feel guilty for not doing something more proactive about his situation. But in his defense, he'd at least tried to put her feelings first? Trying to rationalize Deunan's motivations after the night – nights? - they'd just survived was hopeless. He could only go along for the ride and pray that she didn't call him on it later.

Soon even those worries had to take a backseat to the physical pleasure she was giving him. There was no room for any unnecessary thoughts at all, just a heady mix of his need for her touch, and her filling of that need, overshadowing all but the steady ache of exhaustion that even Deunan couldn't completely dispel. Briareos exhaled in relief, feeling almost lifted out of his body when release finally came. The heat of her mouth, along with the racing of his blood, the bunched sheets in his fists; it all coalesced into one perfect note of tired bliss, chasing the length of his spine with each ardent squeeze of her hands. The draw of her lips around his shaft would have made his toes curl, had he still had toes. The sensation of floating remained even after she eased away from him.

Briareos blinked slowly at the ceiling as he tried to get his wits together. Part of him wanted to move, to gather her back in his arms where she belonged and somehow find the words to say to make her understand how incredible her impromptu seduction had felt. It was impossible to coordinate the will to shift his limbs however. Far easier to just lay there like an idiot, and wallow in the sensations still ghosting through his veins. He felt more than saw Deunan fussing with their bedding. Belatedly remembering how to get himself moving in order to help, it was all he could do to lift his arms to catch her as she settled against him again.

"Now sleep. Alright?" She insisted stubbornly, petting his face as she snuggled closer. He nodded slowly, noticing that she'd opted to settle herself high on the pillows for once, instead of wedged against his chest like usual. With her waist molding to the contour of his arm, she was curled around his shoulder instead of propped against it. Her t-shirt clad chest lay at eye level as she draped an arm around his neck to hold him loosely. Wrapping one arm around her hips and the other supporting her back, he accepted the invitation to settle himself in her arms and turned his face into the familiar warmth between her breasts. Between one breath and the next, he lost all track of time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Promethean Blood - ch 9 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

BRIAREOS

It was many long hours before he woke up again, even then not by choice. Returning to consciousness with a slow blink, he tried to make sense of what he was feeling, and why he was even up at all. The alarm clock chimed again, annoyingly helpful as it reminded him of obligations to the world beyond the end of their bed. Their bedrooms cozy darkness didn't help matters in the slightest. It took a long minute of staring at his internal chronometer to really understand what time it was. He blinked again realizing they'd slept right through into the evening. The alarm clock had been their back-up plan for the night, a 'get up or else' warning that he hadn't planned to honestly need. They'd slept for over ten hours! His rubbed his head gingerly, still bemused by the repeating chirp of the alarm. Briareos couldn't remember the last time he'd slept that many hours straight without there being something wrong with him. His girl, grumbled as she slowly roused from her sleep, seeming to hear the irritating noise too. Feeling her shift against him, he mustered the will to reach out and shut the alarm off.

Deunan sighed and squeezed him as she adapted to being awake. "Time to get up?"

"Seems so." He agreed, no more motivated than he was a minute prior, to get out of bed. Warm, comfortable, wrapped in his woman's arms as she cradled his head against her, he was positive that nothing else he was probably going to encounter in the shift ahead would prove better than just staying here. Briareos pressed his face against her again to try and avoid the inevitable for a minute more. Getting up meant dealing with the aftermath of yesterday. He sighed at the unwelcome thought.

Sure they'd applied some band-aids between the two of them, but he didn't kid himself that what they had was anything but fragile. One wrong word, at the wrong time, and they'd probably be back to snapping and biting at each other, and that wasn't something he wanted to repeat. He felt bad enough as it was. All he wanted was the peace and quiet of their bedroom, the feel of her against him, the knowledge that she was safe, and relaxed, and at least content to be with him, if not actively happy. Her arms tightened around him, giving him hope that she wasn't already brooding over what he was and wasn't doing right for the day.

The problem, he could see already, was that what he wanted to do, to show her he cared, was to keep her tucked against his side all shift where he could be sure she was safe. Or better yet keep her at home so that she could rest properly for 36 hours and let her injuries heal. Either suggestion would undoubtedly get him kicked in the shins. Briareos could well imagine her recent look of outraged frustration returning with a vengeance if he so much as hinted at the idea of her calling in sick. Hell, if the tables were turned, he'd be pissed too, if she tried to tell him check back into the clinic again instead of just putting it all behind them and getting on with work.

"We're going to be late, Bri." She rubbed at him sympathetically as she reminded him of their duty. "Come on, handsome, let's not get Lance any more riled at us than needed. Besides... I want to see what intel Enyo's coughed up after the medics get done prodding me."

"Slave driver." He chuckled softly before untangling from his woman enough that she could slip from bed. Briareos sat on the edge of the mattress, taking stock of his physical and mental state while Deunan puttered in the bathroom. Thanks to the ridiculous amount of sleep they'd managed to get, he felt pretty damned perky. He rubbed at his head in amusement. The last several hours had been both deep and dreamless – as far as he could tell - leaving him almost optimistic-feeling as he tried to guess what the night's shift would bring. It was a very welcome change of pace. He could only hope the prolonged nap had done his girl a similar amount of good.

Briareos couldn't help but feel a little guilty still, about the unorthodox therapy Deunan had applied to his ongoing insomnia-issues. But he also couldn't deny that it had _worked_. He'd slept like the dead in the afterglow. Briareos resolved to not begrudge his girl any and all 'I told you so's she was inclined to flaunt in the next 12 hours. He owed her that much at least.

As if reading his mind, Deunan reappeared at the bathroom door, towel draped over her shoulders as she gave him a thoughtful inspection of her own. "You feeling alright? Did you sleep?"

"I slept." He agreed. Gesturing that she might come closer, he waited until she was within grabbing distance before reaching out to tug her into a hug. He nuzzled the side of her neck as soon as proximity allowed. "You are a miracle worker."

"That's _two_ today." Deunan reminded him with a wry smile, pulling away to get dressed. Even in the shadows of their bedroom he could see her bruises were much improved. She still moved stiffly, but there was a bounce evident in her deft digging through the closet that gave him confidence that she was feeling, as well as looking better. Snapping her bra in place before looking over her shoulder, she offered him a playful wink. "What did I tell you about pacing yourself, old man?"

"Three-maybe. I called you 'clever minx' when you dug up Enyo's fake drivers license earlier, you know." He huffed at his belated memory of the off-hand but genuine praise he'd given. "I only just remembered now. So that counts too, right?"

"Did you? You're way ahead of the curve then." Deunan hummed softly to herself as she buttoned her shirt, throwing him an arch look as he continued to sit lazily on the side of the bed. "You expecting some kinda reward for going above and beyond? 'Cuz you keep going like this and visiting the doc's going to have to wait..."

"Just promise me you'll be careful tonight." He offered, huffing at her tease. "And we'll call it even."

"I think I can safely promise you that I'm not dying tonight, Bri. If that's what you're worrying about already." She crossed the room to press a kiss against his forehead. "Now let's get going. Huh?"

* * *

D E U NA N

Back in the regular chaos of HQ after several hours away, Deunan was obliged to take a breath and mentally wrench herself back into a 'working' state of mind after the mandatory break from the action. That was the problem with downtime, she figured. No matter how bad she – they - needed it, it was damned hard switching back and forth rapidly. Time of day for the rest of the city was functionally irrelevant within the confines of the police department. Everyone was moving at high gear. The multi-national conference had started downtown at some point while she'd been sleeping. There were sound and video bites from dozens of news programs looping from various screens around the precinct. Diplomats were pouring into the city and each had their own security issues to be dealt with. The venues were swept, secured, re-swept damn near hourly... She rolled her eyes at the knowledge that the mayhem would continue for _days_ until the unwanted VIPs returned to their homes again.

She set aside worrying about things that _might_ happen in favor of what was already on her plate. The wall of details on the cyborg sisters had taken on a life of its own with the way it had sprouted new notes and cross-links. There was even a subsection, Deunan noted in passing, related to the gas attack on the Chinese restaurant, although its connection the rest of the material looked a bit sketchy. She crouched down next to the series of photos and details from the operation that'd put Sudoh in the hospital the day before, and marveled to see herself amongst the evidence.

An image from a news story, god knew how old, showed a group of uniformed LAPD officers standing in the sunshine next to burned out car as they apparently discussed motive and plan of action. She could recognize her short blond bob she'd worn before the war easily, and Briareos' looming silver bulk was a no-brainer. Looking at the face some detective had kindly circled in his research, she recognized Scott as well, looking all together bored as he leaned against the wreck and pointed down the street at something else. Deunan vaguely remembered the day. He'd been gesturing about how there were two more burned-out hulks not a block away, neither of which had been deemed terrorism when they'd happened, trying to convince them all that this particular destroyed vehicle hadn't been part of any sinister ongoing plot.

Deunan sat on her heels remembering the incident. As it turned out, Scott had been right. The fact that a diplomat had died in that particular car had ended up being coincidence. They'd gone on to find that the other murdered-diplomats had all be involved with some crazy multinational synth-drug ring a month later. Just another summer in LA, really, she felt a burst of nostalgia for what now seemed like 'simpler times'.

She needed to go talk to him, she figured. Hopefully they were holding her old teammate in a reasonably comfortable cell. Deunan didn't want to think of him being forcibly interrogated or otherwise abused while she wasn't paying attention. She owed him at least that much. It was something she could ask Lance later, she supposed, once the commander was done with Briareos. Thinking of her partner, in for his solo meeting with the boss, made her more determined to make good on some of what they'd talked about the night before. For one day at least? She was confident she could manage to be careful and premeditated, a better teammate too.

To that goal she stood resolutely and went to join two a pair of ESWAT women that she only knew by their numbers where they stood drinking coffee and chatting about the day. The minor bit of teasing she got over skipping practice, and her now infamous cat-suit-wearing take-down from the night before wasn't anywhere near as bad as the coffee was. Able to finally put names with faces, even if the names weren't necessarily 'real', she found she liked both of them better than Pani already. They gave her a great recommendation for a new place to try for lunch. Deunan countered with her best funny-story about cooking in the badlands, and felt modestly pleased with herself when they both laughed in response. She was just working up the courage to invite one or both of the women to hang out some time when not at work when her number was called over the paging system, reminding her that she had a visit with the doctors _before_ her visit with the chief.

Rolling her eyes at her new friends' earned her another laugh, this time sympathetic as they waved her away. Deunan tested her ribs with a hand as she rode down in the elevator to where the clinic was tucked away. There were a few spots that hurt, especially where Agara had thrown her into the wall, but for the most part, she didn't _feel_ worse than yesterday. She only hoped the doctors agreed.

* * *

"Keep coming in here like this and I'm going to think you want a date, 109." A familiar EMT grinned at her as he ducked past on his way out to his shift. She flipped a rude gesture at his back. Two of the bioroid nurses also greeted her familiarly as she sat down on the bed indicated as 'her usual'.

Deunan sighed and resigned herself to the jokes as even the doctor turned the corner, saw her and did a double-take. "You again?"

"You wanted me to report in for checkup." She reminded him. He merely made a variety of concerned noises, some of them even genuine, as he pulled up her medical records for the past week. Wincing at him as he poked her chest to test her ribs for himself, she sighed and decided that maybe, just this once, she'd see if life would do her a favor. "Hey... not to tell you your job or anything... but do you think you could put a note in my file for 'no hand-to-hand combat' for today? Or whatever it is you guys do to encourage the brass to not assign a girl to get punched in the face the day after she spends the night getting stomped by cyborgs? I'd really appreciate it."

"109... if they'd consulted with me _yesterday_ before assigning you to your late-night operation I'd have flat out told them that my professional opinion was to not field you in _any_ circumstances. You were approved for _light_ training. Not for combat. And definitely not for non-exo combat. You could have shattered something, do you know that? It's a wonder you didn't!"

"Oh." She grimaced as she heard the news. Nobody had told _her_ that before she'd dove into her plans to take down Enyo.

Then again, it hadn't been intended to be a combat operation. And... she hadn't asked about her own status either. In the end she was the one ultimately responsible for her field-readiness, not the paper pushers. Deunan sighed, accepting some of the responsibility for her ongoing injuries. Maybe Briareos was right. Maybe she did have a blind-spot when it came to taking care of herself.

"Ok. Well... how am I doing today?" She decided to not repeat the same mistake again. "Better? Or worse?"

"The ribs are still fractured. Different fractures this time, which I don't know is better or worse." The doctor scratched his chin as he considered the images on his screen. "Your session with the knitter last night manged to do for the older ones quite credibly, but even so, 109, you're supposed to _rest_ the bone between treatments, not go out and get it broken in new ways. At the rate you're going you'll end up needing to have them replaced all together."

He waggled his stylus at her in a vaguely ominous way. "So I'm repeating yesterday's note about no non-exo combat. And I'm adding to it, no non-exo training whatsoever, since apparently your superiors cannot understand what 'light duty' is supposed to mean. Otherwise? Despite the fact that you were playing punching-bag with cyborgs last night, I'm pleased to report that there's nothing wrong with your head... other than what I'd expect with all you ESWAT types." Her doctor smiled wryly at his own joke. "So how about we make a bet that I _don't_ see you again until your next checkup in 24 hours. And if you pop up before then, I'm charging a nice dinner for myself and my crew to your expense sheet. Understood 109?"

Deunan blinked at the threat. "Hey that's not fair! I could land down here without it being my fault! What if the driver crashes the ESWAT helo or something huh? Then I'd be obliged to get a checkup, even though it was just a procedural!"

"That's just a risk you're going to have to take." The doctor smiled wider, pointing to the door that she could leave when ready. "Your notes are already updated, 109, you're free to go. Just... don't come back for 24 hours, unless you bring pizza too..."

"Mercenary." Deunan groused as she straightened her shirt and sulked back upstairs.

Briareos was sitting at the conference table, reading through the events of the day they'd missed. She squeezed his shoulder as she leaned over to get a quick look for herself. "You ok?" She had to ask.

"I'm alright." He agreed, patting her fingers as he read. "You're next."

"I know." She sighed. At least she had some relatively good news she could share with her 'borg before going in to face her chewing-out from the commander. She smiled down at him. "Hey, you'll be pleased to hear that the doctors say I'm to get in my exo and stay there if I know what's good for me. No unsuited combat until at least tomorrow, if not end of the week, even for training. Looks like I'm going to be obliged to be _your_ backup for a while."

Briareos huffed in laughter at that, turning to look at her at last. "You going to listen to them?"

"Yeah." Deunan shrugged, accepting her lot. "Think I will... but just this once. You know that I love giving those guys shit. Besides, they were threatening to name one of the triage beds after me and I'm just not ok with that."

"My maintenance crew over at the clinic are threatening pretty much the same thing." Her partner's extendibles tilted sideways in a look of resigned amusement. "Let's make it a goal for this shift to go _home_ at the end of it, instead of various hospitals. Huh?"

"Sounds good to me." She squeezed his shoulder again. "I'm going to ask if we can talk to Scott... unless you'd rather I didn't?"

"It's not like they don't know our connection to the guy." Briareos agreed thoughtfully. "Lance didn't ask me about him earlier, but sure girl... if you want to... I don't think it'll cause any problems. He may not have ever been my favorite person to work with, but that's no reason for you to ignore him if you don't want to."

"Thanks." She made a face not sure how to put her reasoning it words. "It just... feels wrong to pretend I don't know him. You know? I mean... sure he's a crook now - and probably always was - but... he's Scott. He's practically family."

"I know." Briareos nodded. "Talk to him then. Just. Be careful."'

"Worry wart." Deunan teased. "Wish me luck?"

"Lance isn't your father, girl." Her cyborg pointed out what should have been obvious to her.

Deunan let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, recognizing abruptly that he was right. She'd been bracing herself for the interview as if she was about to get thoroughly raked-over by her long-lost parent back in LA. Deunan shook her head marveling at her ingrained conditioning from years of serving under him. Lance _wasn't_ her father. Not that the old guy wasn't just as dedicated - in his way - to the running of his squad, but even at his worst, Lance wouldn't, _couldn't_ make the criticism as personal as her father often had. Deunan squeezed her partner one last time, grateful for the timely reminder of what was then, and what was now, before squaring her shoulders and heading off to her meeting.

* * *

Her chance to catch up with any LAPD alumni currently in the holding cells had to wait until after after a crack-of-dawn training session. Not able to participate in any meaningful way in the fake tower-assault, Deunan resigned herself to rear vanguard and even indulged in a rare bit of sniping as her partner was obliged to go in at the front of the pack. It made for a weirdly fun change of pace. Deunan lined up another likely shot and rolled her eyes when her target moved in the nick of time.

"Damn it. How is it they always hold still for _you_?" She groused over her radio to her partner.

Briareos snorted in amusement, and then was obliged to swear as one of the opposing team popped smoke to conceal their preparations by practically bouncing the canister off of his head. The front of building was promptly blanketed in thick white vapor, causing sounds of chagrin from most of her team. "Tell you what, girl, you come up here and do what you do best, and I'll trade with you so I can do the same, huh?"

"Nuh uh." She laughed at his dismay. "I need the practice, handsome. Clearly my distance game is getting sloppy from all my fun on the front lines. I can't have you being all ashamed to have me as your marksman, now can I?"

"It'd never happen." Her cyborg disagreed. "Any day you're _my_ marksman? Is a day when there are bigger issues at hand. This setup is all kinds of backwards, as far as I'm concerned. You just do your best... and remember that you tend to pull left..."

"Thanks." She stated dryly, both amused and chagrined that he couldn't help but remind her of her weakness. "Is this where I tell you to stop being a wuss up there and hit them like they deserve it?"

"Noted." He got the hint without further needling. "But fists aren't like paint, Deunan. It's a bit hard to wash off a broken jaw."

"True." Deunan sighed merrily, adjusting her sensor configuration so that she could center her gun-sight on one of the heat-masses behind the smokescreen. "But they're clearly ganging up on you because they know you're a soft touch in training, old man. Stop letting them pick on you!"

Squeezing the trigger she grinned as a distant 'ow!' proved that she was capable of a trick shot or two herself, despite the fact that she usually left such things to her cyborg. "Ha ha."

"Sadist." He critiqued cheerfully.

"I can't help it." Deunan smirked as she hunted for more prey. "This whole sitting at the back thing brings out the worst in me. Watch your one o'clock!"

"Got it." Briareos blocked the sudden tumble of rubble from a higher floor in the building by the simple expedient of lifting a teammate's riot shield, man and all, to deflect the crumbled concrete. "Sorry, 93. Figured you wouldn't appreciate getting crushed." Deunan couldn't hear the man's response but the friendly wave-off seemed to imply there were no hard feelings.

"Have I mentioned that I hate tower assaults?" Briareos complained companionably to her as he returned to strafing into the fog from a covered position. Her team had gained six feet, but were once again stuck as the defenders regrouped. "I always end up picking gravel out of my head at the end, _always_."

Deunan tried to help by taking a shot at a likely looking shadow in the window above his position, sending someone scurrying to cover within the building instead of dumping more crap onto her team below. "Peek-a-boo," she muttered under her breath at her next target. "I see you."

"Use a tracer." Her partner offered cynically. "Maybe we'll get lucky and you'll set something on fire."

"Like a squad mate?" She joked back.

"You said it, not me." Briareos claimed deny-ability.

"And get mauled again by Lance for burning down the training center? No thanks. Just get in there already." Deunan drawled. "They can't dump stuff on you if you're in cover on the ground floor... well not and compromise the floor they're standing on at the same time... Do you need me to come up there and show you how it's done?"

"No thanks." Her partner disagreed. "I don't fancy getting decommissioned by your doctor for encouraging more bruises."

She shot and missed again, but figured at least she was keeping the shadow from dropping any more nastiness down on her team. Finally someone at the front got a lucky hit in where it counted, and the group broke through the ground floor entrance to the building to begin the interior assault.

Deunan took that as her cue to climb to a better perch as well, using her Hermes anti-gravity coils to levitate the exo up a level rather than her usual expedient of just piston-jumping the distance. It was a somewhat frivolous use of suit power, and left her an open mark, had anyone been gunning for her, but the tenants of the building had bigger worries at the moment. More importantly? Her body thanked her for the feather-light landing. Better to save her ribs for when she really needed them, Deunan figured, than to risk injury during a game. Her targets weren't as busy as she'd thought however. Her exo's control panels chirped to alert her of incoming fire even as she settled herself onto the flat roof of the dummy-storefront, compelling her to swear and shuffle to a better position. Dodging another pot-shot from the windows across the fake alleyway, she hunkered into a low crouch again and tapped her fingers against the control sticks while her computers crunched numbers about trajectories. It wasn't the most fun she'd ever had on a practice drill, she supposed, but it had its moments.

If nothing else, she would be able to boast of her first training session since being hired where she hadn't had to break a sweat. That alone was novelty. The sitting was honestly kind of boring however. Deciding to see if her partner would humor her she teased him through their private channel again. "Hey Bri- did you hear the news? Hitomi says they're opening up a new water-slide park over on south-side... want to check it out some weekend?"

"What on earth would _I_ do at a water-slide park?" He asked in amusement, the sounds of battle faintly audible around him.

"Lounge at the in-pool bar, sipping drinks and keeping count of how many times Hitomi and I loose our bikini tops from hitting the water too hard?" She offered.

"With my luck, you two would glue them on, and I'd be stuck helping poor Yoshi hunt down his washed-away shorts." Briareos grumbled.

"Is that how Hitomi keeps those track-day suits she wears on?" Deunan marveled, it having never occurred to her. "Jeez that's cheating! And also... sounds kinda... painful... I mean wouldn't the glue hurt coming off?"

"Well... don't you wax a bit when you're wearing one of those minimalist suits of yours to the beach?" He pointed out her less-than-elegant preparations for swimsuit season, making her grimace. "Isn't that about the same, really? I always figure that had to hurt like hell."

"That was back in LA." She admitted grimly. "Here they have far more civilized means of taking care of that sort of grooming."

"Good to know." He let the conversation go at that, clearly not interested in hearing the details, especially mid-gun-fight. "Can we talk about something else please? On the off chance that they're recording?"

"Ha ha." Deunan lined up the shot she'd been waiting for. A defender on a higher floor had finally forgotten she was outside as he stepped into full view of the window. Holding her breath, she counted to two and squeezed the trigger, sending her distant target reeling with the unexpected hit. "Scratch one. Looks to me like they're staging something on the roof, old man. Pass it along, huh?"

"Pass it along yourself." He groused, but she heard him sharing the intel across channels just the same. "This. Sucks. They've barricaded the stairs."

"So collapse the damned things and climb over the rubble. That's what I'd do." Deunan pointed out candidly. "It's not like this is a real building. The mayor can't complain..."

"Have I mentioned to you lately, how much more ruthless you've become lately?" He remarked idly. "Are you serious? Destroy a staircase in order to circumvent a barricade?"

"How's it any different from rappelling down and smashing through the windows?" She mused. "It's the same general amount of damage to the building, really. The only difference is we can _do_ it now... we never had gear good enough for that sort of demolition back in LA."

"It's crazy though... I mean what if we pull down half the first floor at the same time?"

"Then you'll bag more assholes as they come tumbling through." Deunan shrugged, not seeing what was wrong with her ad hoc plan. "I mean. We know they don't have civilians or explosives up there. The building's already half trashed... what's the point in pussyfooting around? We're ESWAT, not the police, not regular SWAT... the 'extra' is in there for a reason, handsome. Get in there, and _get_ the fuckers."

Briareos had to laugh softly at that, digesting her point for several moments of sporadic gun fire before getting back to her. "You know... I know I asked you to tell me what you were thinking, at times like this, so I could be ready for it... But I have to admit. Even knowing? I'm not sure how exactly I'd be ready for that one."

"You'd think of something." Deunan smirked. "You always do."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, squad-lead's just ordered some rockets forward. So you two may be thinking more alike than different at this point." Briareos murmured. "This is going to be loud..."

Deunan dared to peer over the edge of her hiding spot to watch the show. Hopefully the team had good cover, she thought, watching the orange and white bloom of the explosion at the back of the ground floor that shattered out what little was left of the windows in the rest of the training ground. The top half of the building was visibly shaken with the blast, causing the defending team to scurry back with shouts of disbelief and dismay. Even at half-strength, for safety, the incendiaries packed a serious punch. Deunan glanced over her shoulder up at the observation platform, noting the equally disbelieving faces of a few of the techs who were in her line of sight. Lance, she could just barely make out as he stood in front of the shatter-proof observation window, his face was covered by his hand in a posture of momentary disgust.

Someone was going to get chewed on later, she figured with a grin. And for once? It wouldn't be her! "You still alive in there?" She checked in on her man once the initial chaos of rubble and shooting was settled.

"Sure." He remarked calmly. "On the second floor now."

"Having fun yet?" Deunan teased.

"No." He sighed. "I've got concrete dust in every single exposed joint. This sucks."

"Poor baby." She grinned again. "Ask nicely and I'll help you clean up later..."

"I will refer you back to my earlier rebuttal about not wanting to get decommissioned by your doctor." He dryly pointed out, not rising to the bait. "I'm pretty sure hijinks in the shower are off limits for you too, at this point."

"Spoil sport." Deunan sighed. "And now they're all hiding from me too... This sucks."

"Tell me more about this water-park then." Briareos humored her boredom as he strafed down targets within the building that she couldn't see. "They really have a wet bar? I might be tempted with some margaritas in the pool."

"Dunno." She shrugged. "I'll find a brochure later..."

Having the luxury of chatting about random nonsense while on shift was fun, she supposed, but being benched still wasn't what she'd call a good time. Holding a breath, she tested her ribs by tightening the muscles in her chest carefully, seeing how it felt. As expected, it hurt quite a bit. She forced herself to relax within her exo and humor her poor beaten body's desire to take it easy for a day. Cyborgs really had it better, she mused, waiting for another opportunity to take a shot. Either they were damaged, or they were fixed. None of this stupid 'taking time to heal' business that everyone else had to go through. She kept the thought to herself however, figuring her partner would find some reason to disagree with the revelation.


	15. Chapter 15

**Promethean Blood - ch 15 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

The ESWAT holding areas were labeled by numbers for the level of security they entailed, rather unimaginatively, in Deunan's opinion.

Other than the numbers, the hallways were almost mind-numbingly repetitive. Just a never ending series of lifts and beige corridors with doors and checkpoints at regular intervals. She made careful note of her route once she left the main guard booth, not wanting the embarrassment of getting lost. She'd never made a study of the science of what happened to crooks once they were caught, but probably someone had. Deunan nodded to yet another attentive guardsman as she passed through a checkpoint, and decided that _she_ certainly didn't want to ever have to try and break out of the place. The odds of getting turned around and right back where you started? Seemed incredibly high. She conceded that was very likely the point.

Level 'one' had been only just beyond the elevators, a posh looking hallway of 'guest suites' usually given over to the rare white collar criminals and potentially-above-the-law diplomats. Her hunt led her to level four, which felt a little more familiar in its utilitarian 'prison like' atmosphere. Deunan paused to scan her id yet again, and passed through to the security booth at the edge of the zone she'd been told to report to.

"I'm here to see one of your holds." She told the grim looking officer behind the desk. "My name should be on your list? Knute? ESWAT?"

The officer s expression eased minutely as her reason for bothering him checked out. He verified her id against his files and pointed her to a empty room adjacent. "You re here for the Federated American guy, right? I'll have him brought over."

"Thanks." She stepped through to find pretty much what she'd expected.

The usual setup with two chairs and a table, neatly bisected by a plate of thick glass was ordinary looking enough. The room was as beige as any she'd ever seen in Olympus. Absolutely minimal furniture meant there was next to nothing that could be used as a weapon, by either party in the conversation. Not so much as guard to be overpowered, or an air vent to exploit. Olympus took holding on to its prisoners pretty seriously she figured, especially as ESWAT usually had a hell of a time _catching_ them in the first place.

Scott had been the rare exception in volunteering to be peacefully taken in. Deunan sat in the guest chair, and made casual note of the various security cameras around the room while she waited for her old friend to arrive. It only took a few minutes. The door on the other side of the glass opened to allow one grizzled looking LAPD veteran in.

"Hey there princess," her old friend smiled at her, seemingly genuine in his delight as he sank into his chair. "Fancy meeting a girl like you in a place like this, huh?"

"Hi Scott." Deunan waved, looking him over carefully for signs of damage. "You can use my name. They know who I am. They treating you ok?"

He'd been able to clean up, from the looks of things. The man's face had benefited from a shave, shower, possibly some sleep. He almost looked like a normal guy, and not a caught-in-the-act terrorist. She grimaced at the thought. His 'peaceful' surrender had occurred only after his gang had been rounded up for deploying lethal nerve gas within a crowded restaurant. It was a wonder more civilians hadn't been killed. As it was, the brunt of the fatalities had been either in his crew of crooks, or officers of one police team or another, and that was just as bad.

Still, he wasn't totally responsible, or at least she told herself he wasn't. Scott was an ass, but he wasn't a murderer... at least not if he could find some easier means of getting what he wanted. Deunan grimaced again at just how low her expectations of the man really were.

Her former teammate was studying her just as thoroughly as she was him. Probably reading her inner conflict from her face, she supposed. He was kind enough to not call her on her doubts however, if he noted them.

"For being held prisoner?" The aging ex-cop shrugged agreeably. "Yeah actually I can't complain. I hear I'm being kept in the pretty low-security part of this brig... which is practically better than the shit hole apartment I was paying money to live in back in LA..."

Deunan had to smile again at the candid critique. Strange how little the man had changed since she'd last seen him. He was more weathered, sure. There were a few new scars on his face and hands. His hairline had thinned with age; the blond color fading to a dirty sort of white thanks to sun and years. But he was still the same Scott Peterson she'd known since she was a little girl in the way his blue eyes crinkled at the edges with his wry smile. Funny how small the world felt sometimes. Her chest hurt for a reason other than the bruises to see him after so long. When had she last seen a familiar face? It was almost like looking at a ghost.

She rested her chin on her hand and watched him candidly. "I hear you're cooperating. That's good... I've been worried about you."

"Well you just keep on worrying, hot-lips." He grinned back, slouching into his chair and relaxing as she did. "But not too much, alright? You know me. I'm like an old alley cat, girl. I always land on my feet. Having you worrying after me just give me a little extra insurance that I won't get lost in the machinery once they decide they're done with me."

"You could apply for citizenship...?" Deunan offered, not sure if she wanted to be responsible for sponsoring him, or even if he was interested. Briareos would undoubtedly balk at the prospect, and she couldn't blame him.

"No thanks." Scott saved her the worry, shaking his head in simple dismissal of the idea. "It's back to California for me, I think. I'm still a citizen. It's the natural place for Olympus to evict me to. Who knows, maybe I'll try my hand at being a policeman again... seems no matter what else I do, I always go back to it in the end. Guess it's in the blood, stupid, huh?"

"You were good at it." Deunan shrugged. "When you could be bothered to try."

"What about you? You still enjoying it?" Scott copied her posture, resting his elbow on the beige tabletop. "You don't have to do it to please your father anymore, after all... You could do something else. I always figured you'd be happier just leaving it all behind someday."

"Being a cop's all I've ever known, old man." She smirked at the truth of it, slouching in her seat she hooked her heels on the edge of her chair a minute to stretch out an ache in her spine. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't on a squad."

"Still stringing the big idiot along after you too, poor guy. Figured you'd have left him in the dust by now..." Scott made a joke of it, but he raised an eyebrow just the same.

"He's still with me." Deunan agreed dryly. "Why, what's it to you? _You_ have a crush on him all this time or something?"

"God no." The grizzled blond merely shrugged, not revealing more than he wanted to on the subject. "Just- I dunno. Pleased for you. I guess. He's the one huh? You've never found someone you liked better than that sad sack of bones?"

"He's Briareos." She stated the obvious, making her old friend smile in genuine pleasure.

"It just doesn't get better than that, huh." The old man tilted his head back and laughed briefly. "You're a riot girl, you always were. You keep giving that man hell, you hear me? For old time's sake, if for no other reason. He here with you? Where's the bastard lurking anyway..."

"Taking care of some paperwork from the last few days." Deunan stretched again. "Why? You need him for something?"

"Well... I kinda had a message for him, honestly. Although it's all a little mysterious." Scot scratched his chin looking chagrined.

"You can give it to me. I can pass it along." Deunan offered, curious as to what the message was, and how Scott had come by it. "Who's it from?"

"Dunno." The old man had the grace to look annoyed by his answer.

Deunan blinked at the unexpected answer. "Ok, well, what's it about?"

"Well I can't just go spouting it out..." Scott scratched his chin again, looking even more exasperated. "It's not like that, girl. I was paid a good chunk of change, a while back, to carry a message for some guy to Briareos, right? I Never met him. It was all done via keyosks. And - it's weird but I think maybe it's some sort of hypnotic suggestion kind of thing... Because if you just ask me, 'what's the message' ? I fucked if I know, right? I just know I got one, somewhere in my head, for your big steel-plated bastard. He's just going to have to come here himself and see if I can'trigger it for him."

"That's... freakish." She sat up and stared at the former cop in alarm. "You let some random stranger plant a hypnotic suggestion into you to carry a secret message for Briareos? Isn't that kinda dangerous? I mean, don't nanites make you less susceptible to that sort of shit? Block the neural receptors that put a person into a suggestible state?"

"Shit girl, I had to flush those things years ago, they don't last forever, you know that. Without regular boosters, you lose'em to just regular bodily functions eventually." The former policeman sighed, annoyed. Sure I've picked up some free-market ones in the meantime, but they're nowhere near as good as the ones your dad sprung for, way back when. "Besides. I didn't know at the time that I was about to be hypnotized. That wasn't exactly what I signed up for."

"So why deliver the message now? What s in it for you?" Deunan frowned, marveling at the risk he'd taken. There were stories of people who'd been practically mind-wiped by enemy forces using such tricks, turned into little better than organic drones following some simple instruction until they starved or completed their objective; usually by blowing themselves up somewhere inconvenient. "I mean if you got screwed over, why bother?"

"The rest of the finder's fee, of course. It's already sitting in my account, but the assets are frozen until I enter a certain password... which... I'm told... is locked in my head along with the damned message." Scott grinned again at her look of chagrin. "So you see why I really would like a word with your stubborn partner, huh? Why not send him in already? You can't tell me he's not eavesdropping in the hall I mean. I might as well get _something_ out of this trip. I doubt I'll be landing a job right away back in LA, at this rate, and I'm going to need the spare change for rent money."

"He's not here, Scott. I told you, he's off filling in paperwork." She shrugged at her inability to help further.

"Typical. Always the brown-noser." Her old friend sighed in disgust. "Alright, well you tell him, preferably _before_ I get loaded up on the next plane heading west, to come and see me pronto! It probably won't take five minutes. I can give'em the damn message, and then we never have to see each other again for all I care. He can take the intel and shove it, for all it matters to me, I just want the damned password to my money, alright? It's the only 'above board' job I've taken in years, I bet, and I damned well want to get paid for it!"

"Sure." Deunan opened her mouth to ask another question when her earpiece chimed, giving her a ten-minute warning that she was due for a team briefing upstairs. She bit her lip, knowing she should go, but worried all over again at the odd coincidence of seeing her old teammate again after all these years, and what it had to do with the rest of the shit going down in town at the moment. Enyo was only just down a few more levels, she figured, ribs aching again with the memory of their recent fight. Were the two connected somehow?

"I hate to ask this, Scott... but do you know anything about a cybernetic trio of female terrorists in sex-bot bodies?"

"No, and you're not the first to ask." He smirked, sitting back with a cynical smile. "Get out of here, girl. You've got better things to do than soft-paw me while the usual goons asking the questions get a coffee break. You tell your man that I want to see him before I go... and you take care of yourself, alright?"

"Have you heard anything about dad?" Deunan had to ask one more question, even though she knew the probable answer.

"You'd know more than I would, I figure." Her former coworker frowned, looking serious for the first time since she sat down. "You've heard nothing? All this time?"

"Not since we were stationed in the Rockies." She agreed grimly. "You were there when I got the package from him. Some odds and ends... weird stuff. A note saying he was going silent for a while for something to do with work. That was it."

It hadn't been the weirdest birthday present the old man had ever given her, the box of random papers, a rambling note, and his old glock; but the package had been a contender. The papers were god-knew-where,lost in one of her many re-assignments during the war. But the old gun she still had, somehow, despite all the chaos during and after the fighting.

"Well. For what it's worth girl - and I'm flat out admitting, it isn't worth much - I heard he was dead two years back." Scott grimaced shrugging his shoulders at his potentially-bad news. "It was just a rumor, and not very detailed one, mind you, but it went something like... somebody thought they'd get clever and crack open a nuclear stockpile... and a special taskforce was sent to stop'em... and things went bad. He and the rest of'em were sealed in when containment failed..."

"Where -" Deunan blinked, wondering at herself at the way she felt nothing at the news. It _sounded_ like something her dad would have gotten mixed up in. Vaguely she wondered which side he'd been on. Had he been trying to get the nukes out? Or keep them in? There'd be no way to know if any or all of the story was true, but if she had at least a name of a town to go by, she might set Gaia to searching for the old bastard. "Did you hear where?"

"I didn't catch the name." Scott shrugged again. "At the time it didn't seem to matter. Figured you were dead too, honestly, until I heard rumors this spring that you two had popped up in Olympus. His op was someplace Russian, I think. Those guys always seem short-handed when it comes to guarding their warheads... but it could have been anywhere, Mid-East, northern China... some feudal shit-hole town that started with 'K' and sounded like someone gargling. You could try writing to one of the bigwigs in the new LAPD, see if they'll dig up something concrete for you, but I don't have any other clues. Sorry girl."

"It's ok." She waved off the apology, standing to gather her thoughts. "You know how to get a hold of me, if you need something? They letting you get access to public data feeds?"

"I'm monitored, of course, but yeah, I've got internet." He smirked. "Why, you want to play Yahtzee-online with me when you're bored in your meetings?"

"Maybe I just want to know where you end up, if you get shipped out before I see you again." She stuffed her hands in her pockets, feeling anxious already at the thought of finding a familiar face in the crowded chaos of Olympus only to lose him again. "Write me, will ya? Just so I know you're ok?"

"I'm not a Christmas-card-writing sort of person, little woman." He snorted in sarcastic amusement. "But yeah ok. I guess I could drop a line when I get Federated-side. For old time's sake."

"Thanks, Scott." She nodded. "I'll- I'll tell Briareos to swing by when he's got a sec, ok?"

"See you around, princess." The man sketched her a salute, watching until she closed the door behind her.

Deunan took a breath once in the impersonal hallway, trying to regain some measure of composure. For the first time since her leisurely wake-up at home, she felt her recent anxieties nagging at her again. Closing her eyes, she breathed a moment to try and get her emotions to cooperate. She wasn't going to go all weepy over Scott, of all people. She'd done enough of that for one week, and for much better reasons, she told herself firmly. Having ascertained to her own satisfaction that her old teammate's arrival was coincidental to the current situation, Deunan knew she ought to put him out of her mind entirely for the rest of the week and worry about more urgent matters, but it bothered her to walk away from the man's cell just the same.

* * *

Briareos, predictably, picked up on her still fragile mood as soon as she settled in the chair next to him in the meeting room. Banished, as usual, to the floor owing to his bulk and the flimsiness of the folding furniture, he had to reach up slightly to pat her knee and get her attention as the rest of the group slouched in to fill the room. "Hey, you alright? He say something nasty to you?"

"No." She struggled to put her mood into words and eventually gave up, not wanting to show her anxieties to the rest of the team if she could avoid it. "Just- It was awkward. He wants to see you. He says he couldn't give your message to me to carry... some sort of post hypnotic suggestion."

Her partner visibly startled at the news, "Why the hell would he volunteer to undergo something like that?"

"I don't think he did. But he's got it stuck in his head just the same, along with a pass code he needs to access in order to unlock his bank account's worth of payment for the chore." She couldn't help but smile at her old friend's situation. Someone had figured out Scott's 'levers' pretty well to think of such a simple-yet-effective-carrot to ensure his cooperation with the job. No cheating, lying or double crosses would help the savvy ex-cop get access to what he wanted, he'd either get the secret he needed out of _his own_ head, or be stuck in a look-but-don't-touch scenario with his money for the rest of his life. No wonder he was so keen to chat with her partner.

Briareos looked less amused, still marveling, no doubt, over the risk inherent with letting anyone, or anything get unrestricted access to his private thoughts and motivations.

"Did he say who the hell it was from?"

"Says he didn't know." Deunan shrugged, not impressed by the mystery now any more than she had been before. "Could be anyone."

"Could be your father." Briareos mused softly, but not so softly she didn't catch it.

Why make _that_ connection, of all the guesses he might have made? She flinched at the thought of a 'message from beyond the grave'. For all she knew, she argued with herself, the old man hadn't died at all and was simply still 'undercover' doing whatever the hell he was doing in the first place. 'Stealing nukes', her cynical side offered unhelpfully. Deunan was saved having to explain that final gem of information to her partner by the arrival of the special task force liaisons. For once she was grateful for the long and detailed briefing they were given about the up coming operation to guard a secret conference meeting. It gave her something to concentrate on other than her own problems for a change.

Briareos was attentive to the lecture as always, hunkered forwards, massive body folded almost as small as it could get in a gesture of kindness to the other officers crammed into the small room with them. He wasn't absolutely focused however. Deunan had to smile at the way that his hand had discretely tucked itself around her calf while he listened, holding her leg companionably against him in funny sort of almost-hug while his fingers rubbed soothing patterns into the ankle of her boot. Another PDA? She wanted to snort to herself, although to be fair, it was a subtle one. She hadn't gotten to the bottom of that particular trend of his, she realized, despite their heart-to-heart the night before. Anxiety, she suspected was part of it, just like it was the root cause behind his shouting. It didn't stop her from wistfully hoping that maybe it was also something more. Maybe, she supposed, just maybe, he was warming up to the idea that a _little_ more attentiveness in a relationship, from him, wouldn't be a bad thing.

"Keep that up, old man, and people are going to think you have kink for women's boots." Deunan murmured teasingly under her breath to him as the agent paused for questions from the crowd. Briareos flinched and stopped idly petting her foot, extendibles tipping back in a sheepish expression. Reaching down she rubbed the back of his head playfully letting him know that she didn't mind.

* * *

BRIAREOS

The mission brief was simple enough, despite the way the adjunct managed to belabor every minute detail. Briareos was glad of it. With Deunan's stamina hampered by her bruises, she didn't need 'complicated' for the day, and frankly, he was happy to have a clear objective for once as well.

Stage a false-convoy to the meeting site, lure the two remaining cyborg sisters out, and capture them for interrogation. He felt his shoulders tensing in anticipation as soon as the mission was announced. Ever since seeing Deunan's bruised throat after the nightclub op, he'd wanted a chance to take some personal action against one, or all of the psychotic-sisters they were hunting. Now that she was in custody, Enyo was functionally off limits for further abuse, but her sisters were still fair game. He suppressed the violent impulse easily enough thanks to years of practice, but it lingered in the back of his thoughts as the briefing rolled on, covering the details for the third time.

He was going to repay the mercenaries for each of the fractures they'd left his girl with. Staring hard at the pair of faces he made note to track down the Agara woman specifically. Maybe after breaking both her arms, he mused, he'd be able to stop dreaming of what she could have done - would have done - to his girl if she'd had the chance. Deunan wouldn't be fighting alone this time, he promised himself. Rested and ready for action, he felt the urge to fidget with his pent up energy as the agent droned on about trucks and timing. Memorizing details with half his attention, he studied his girl's face discretely by swiveling his rear facing eye. She was also engrossed in the briefing, which he felt a little surprised by. Then again, he mused, she also had a bone to pick with the cyborg women too. He noted the way the muscles in her jaw contracted, her entire body giving off mixed signals of stress and soreness with the way she minutely shifted in her seat.

Something Scott had said had riled her, that much was certain. That she hadn't want to bring it up before the meeting implied it wasn't something she wanted to talk about in public. He wanted to soothe away some of the worries he could see in the tight crease between her eyebrows, but cuddling her in the middle of a lecture was ridiculous on multiple levels. Settling for what he _could_ get away with, he let himself settle a hand around her boot, encouraging her wordlessly to lean on him, if she needed to, rubbing his thumb along the seam at the side as he tried to figure out a way to get a private minutes' worth of conversation with her before they were corralled into battle drills and equipment checks. His touch seemed to slowly coax her out of the worst of her inner anxiety. He noted her quick glance his direction, eyes merry despite her otherwise bored expression. It was only during a break in the briefing that she finally leaned sideways to hint at her take on the whole operation however.

"Keep that up, old man, and people are going to think you have kink for women's boots." She drawled softly, completely distracting him from the comment he was going to make about her having to buy a new cat-suit for the encore fight to come.

Briareos flinched, realizing he was still absently petting her foot, and how it probably looked to any other officers who happened to notice, feeling immediately stupid. Even worse, she'd managed to completely trump his intended tease with one of her own. He huffed in soft amusement to be so well caught in his own game and shook his head. "Getting absent minded in my old age. Soon you'll be reminding me to turn the stove off and to stop putting my shirts on backwards, just you wait and see."

"It'll never happen." She rubbed his neck again for good measure. "You'll out last all of us, and you know it."

"There's a depressing thought." He let his voice sound light-hearted but truthfully the idea held no appeal. He decided to change the subject before she could tease him about it further, preferring to keep their attention on the topic at hand. "So... do you want to hold them down while I punch? Or shall I do the holding so you can get a good swing or two in?"

"Naughty." Deunan chided, knuckling the side of his head playfully. "Talk like that will get us another sit-down with Lance, handsome. And as much as it went... better than I expected? I'd like to keep it to an annual occurrence if I can help it."

"Agreed." Briareos sighed, not having found his conversation with the old officer to be particularly comfortable either. "So we don't kick. I can live with that. Doesn't mean a bullet or two can't go stray though... in a non-fatal way, of course."

Deunan snorted in wicked mirth, turning her attention back to the array of maps slowly being organized on the screens behind the podium. He wondered briefly whether his girl would want to compare notes later on their individual lectures, or if she would prefer to keep her own counsel on what the old man had talked about with her. He wasn't entirely sure what he felt like sharing either.

Lance wasn't Carl Knute, that much was definite, but the old man had a similarly uncanny ability to read deeply into his interviewee's motivations just the same. It'd been a long time, Briareos supposed, since he'd felt like he was such an open book for another person. Scolded like a truant school boy, and told to get his head in the game, he felt appropriately humbled by the trust his commander had bestowed in him in them - to get their act together properly. If he hadn't already had a better motivation for mending fences with his girl, he'd have likely been guilt-ed into it by the fatherly-tones of his commanding officer.

"If I can have everyone's attention?" The Staff Sergeant cleared his throat, directing the general chatter of the team back towards what was happening at the front of the room. "I'll now announce team assignments. Bravo team: officers 92, 83, 102, 101, and 115, you are the ambassadorial convoy decoys. Report to Garage2 for vehicle assignments and special equipment in 30 minutes. Alpha team, 96, 113, 120, 109, 42, you are the pincer, we leave from Helopad3 in 30 minutes, your exos are being loaded for you so make sure you're on board or we'll leave without you! The rest of you, suit up for standby, you'll be dropped at auxiliary positions in the area for ad hoc support. Dismissed!"

The room emptied quickly as officers all moved about their business. Without Magus or Sudoh present to heckle, Briareos noticed the meeting felt a little stiffer, more formal, than usual. The younger of the two he'd at least brushed by in the hall in the hours since their return to HQ. They'd both been too busy to do more than wave casually at one another but he'd _seen_ the man since coming on shift. Magus had looked pretty grey, still, thanks to his encounter with the toxic gas downtown, but he was upright, and seemingly capable of staying on top of his various duties. Sudoh was still MIA as far as he could tell. Briareos wondered if the older officer was having a difficult recovery from the gas. He'd been exposed for longer after all. Either way the fact was, it would be an unusual operation with neither of the two senior officers in the field. He was only grateful that after his recent, and copious screw-ups, it was exceptionally unlikely that he'd be put in the lead for any of the evening's events. With Deunan obliged to stay in her exo, he was almost looking forward to just playing it by the book and letting someone else do the heavy-thinking for the day.

"I want to swing by my locker and grab my body armor." His girl nudged him as she noted that the room was emptying around them.

"Armor? Why? Aren't you just getting into your exo?" He unfolded himself and offered her a hand as she rose from her chair, pleased to see her accept the friendly gesture without second guessing his motivations. "You planning something I need to know about, little woman?"

"Yeah." Deunan snorted in amusement at his confusion. "I'm planning a little _extra_ shock-absorbency for the afternoon. I'm small enough that I'll fit, padding or not. And I figure? I'm willing to sacrifice a little sensitivity in the suit today if it means that I won't be obliged to do _another_ checkup for my ribs tonight."

Briareos saw the sense in her plan and nodded, following her out of the room. He was torn between complimenting her on her forethought and teasing her about her apparent cold-war with her doctors. He was at least a few points ahead for the day he figured, one tease wouldn't get him in too much trouble. "If I'd known that all it would take to get you to be health-conscious was to have the EMTs start to make fun of you for breaking things instead of just taping you up, I'd have enlisted their help years ago."

"Booo. You suck." His girl twirled as she walked to stick her tongue out at him. "Besides, they threatened to bill me for the catering if they were obliged to work overtime on me again. And that shit's just not on."

"Ouch." He agreed. "They're damned mercenaries down there."

"That's what I said!" She declared, annoyed. It took barely five minutes for his girl to dress for action, followed by a stop by the water fountain for him, and they were on their way to the roof.

Cautiously pleased at both her good mood and their general level of preparedness, Briareos reviewed their orders in his head as he stepped into his exo. The heavy armor settled in around him with only minimal prompting from his AI. He shrugged deeper into the harness, feeling the latches catch and clamp against his usual plating in order to functionally fuse the additional gear to his body.

As always there was the weird consciousness-expanding moment when his AI fully engaged with the software in the suit, and he was left with the sense of being taller, stronger, just plain more _aware_ than he'd been moment's before. The sensation that joining with his suit gave him was genuinely awesome, not that he'd have ever admitted it aloud. Briareos rolled his shoulders and felt his newly magnified body shift and settle, reminding himself to not let the feeling of temporary-invincibility go to his head.

Glancing sideways, Briareos watched Deunan adjusting the inner harness of her Guges to make room for her added layers of cloth and ceramic. Despite her boasting, it would likely be a tight fit. There really wasn't a whole lot of room within the exos for anything superfluous. Still, his girl had that stubborn look on her face that promised that she wouldn't be denied, and before he could think of another tease, she was in, hatches folding closed behind her as she was enveloped by metal plate and synthetic muscle. The armor twitched and shifted as its systems calibrated to his woman's cues, seeming to come alive with the addition of its pilot.

He waited until she turned the exo's head to frame him in her cameras before distracting her from her preparations. "You sure you fit in there?"

"Seems like." She huffed and shuffled audibly over the radio as she struggled to make some last adjustment to herself within the suit. The large arms of her exo shifted somewhat comically to mirror her movements within as she squirmed. "Ah. Better. Ok. Ready to bust some heads."

"I'm going to need to find a shoe-horn to get you out of there later, aren't I." Briareos drawled playfully. "Good thing I've got twice as many hands to lend?"

Enjoying the chance to be relaxed on shift for once, he deftly flipped his face guard from hand-to-hand-to-hand-to-hand, demonstrating his dexterity with his exo's additional arms before snapping the armored plate over his eyes.

"Show off." She heckled merrily as she reached out with her own exo's hand and palmed his head in gentle abuse.

In her exo was really the only time she could look him 'in the eye', Briareos conceded, accepting the mock-hit with a pretend stagger and wounded 'how could you?' pantomime for her benefit. The act got a laugh out of his partner, who promptly tapped him in another mock hit with her metal-fist. "Knock it off, before we get yelled at."

"You started it." He pointed out calmly.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Children." Magus' exo appeared unexpectedly, his usual command chevrons in place. "Behave, for once? Please?"

"Yessir." Deunan drawled on their behalf, "Glad to see you back in action, sir."

"Everyone rested? Fed? Happy? So nice to see you two playing nice for once..." The senior officer drawled in reply, reaching out to pat her exo on the head paternally before turning to do the same to his.

Briareos ducked the ridiculous gesture and shoo-ed the man away, earning a tisking noise for his efforts. Playing games with Deunan was all well and good, he supposed, but him getting the older-brother-treatment from Magus? That was just weird.

"Ready when you are, 21." He wasn't above reminding the man of their duty.

Magus made a rude gesture at him as he eased his way to the head of the line to consult with their pilots.

Briareos turned back to Deunan in time to see her doing a little shuffling sort of pep-dance within her suit along with 120, and had to chuckle. They was being ridiculous, but he couldn't deny that her pre-battle cheerful enthusiasm was infectious. Whatever had been troubling her before the briefing seemed to have been forgotten about. They'd have time later, after rounding up the persistent cyborgs, to deal with Scott and his nonsense. Right now he was actually looking forward to some hunting along side his woman.


	16. Chapter 16

**Promethean Blood - ch 16 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Perched on the balcony of a building at the edge of the plaza, Deunan whistled softly to herself while she waited. Killing time, along with the rest of her team, she marveled at how Lance, or some other higher-up in ESWAT had convinced the Mayor's office, or what other committees were involved, to allow them to plant their trap in this particularly innocuous part of down-town. It wasn't like they weren't in a real neighborhood after all. The building she was currently squatting on had been evacuated - quietly - along with the other two, but they were real buildings. People had offices in them, jobs. They were going to be pissed, to come into work tomorrow and find bullet holes. How the hell had the insurance companies let them do this? She doubted even her father had enough clout back in LA to deliberately pick a random place for a firefight. If one happened to break out, then sure, SWAT would respond with force, but to be the ones to shoot first? She had to marvel at her new outfit. ESWAT was something else.

If the cyborg-sister were anything-like as armed as the intel guys suspected them to be? At least one of the buildings was likely to get trashed, never mind the hot-dog truck parked on the street below. Looking at the tiny and fragile looking little vehicle she tisked it s inevitable doom. That thing was likely a goner, she figured, no matter how careful she and the other were. Had the city already budgeted to buy the owner another one? Or did ESWAT have a few spares laying around at any given time, just to 'dress' a potential demolition scene?

Deunan took a moment to imagine some hardworking crew down in motorpool fabricating a variety of destructible-prop-vehicles for future battlegrounds: ice-cream trucks, classic cars, noodle carts, anything that might look good if parked on the street in order to be blown up later. She could just _picture_ them fussing over every last detail of their fakes, right down to the pack of hotdogs turning lazily on their little roller grill.

If it was her? She'd rig the wrecks-to-be with enough C-4 to wipe Miami off the map. But on second thought, Deunan figured it would be too risky, not knowing whether a friendly would crash into it first.

Glancing up, over her shoulder, she could just make out Briareos' position on the rooftop. The two-meter long barrel of his custom sniper rifle looked almost like part of the building's antenna-array as he held it casually, biding his time.

"See anything?" Deunan couldn't help but ask on their private channel.

"Soon." Briareos didn't scold her for nagging, despite the fact that it had to have been the third time she asked in the last ten minutes.

She could read the time as well as he could, watching the seconds tick down on her screen as the morning meetings adjourned, and dignitaries returned to the their lodgings. Tapping her fingers along the safeties on her firing panel Deunan tisked to herself over the need to wait. If Enyo had coughed up the real goods like she should have? There would be no need for this cat-and-mouse bullshit, they could have just raided the women's safe-house and been done with it. But no, their hideout was still an unknown quantity, if there even was one. So the next best thing was to draw the cyborg terrorists out by giving them a nice juicy target to gun for. Deunan grinned wolfishly to herself with the promise of showing that Agara-chick what a real fight looked like, now that she was properly armed and armored. A cyborg might have an undeniable advantage in a fist-fight in the women's bathroom, but here? And now? Deunan was inclined to think she might gain the upper-hand.

"Package is in route, ETA three minutes and twenty." Magus' calm drawl interrupted her thoughts as he briefed everyone as to their status.

She checked her guns out of habit, glancing left and right to confirm the positions of the other officers once more. They were as ready as they were going to be. Deunan forced herself to exhale and settle herself, resolved to have a by-the-book day for Briareos' sake, if not her own.

"Tail confirmed. Looks like our targets have taken the bait." Magus echoed the news from their decoy team a few moments later.

"Sweet." She murmured to herself, excited despite her intention to play it cool.

The spooks at HQ had analyzed the route that the diplomats' motorcade was supposed to take, to get them back to the embassy, and had chosen the street directly between their square, and the embassy proper as the most likely choke point for would-be assassins to strike. Therefore ESWAT had positioned _their_ choke a mere block and a half before _that_, in order to catch the crooks when they least expected it. Deunan had to admire the plan for its pragmatism. They'd attack their targets just as the women were distracted in performing their own pre-assault check lists. With any luck they'd be down and hurting before they had a chance to get more than a few shots off. That was the goal, at any rate.

"Stand by. All quiet." Magus instructed, voice all business as he too psyched himself for what was about to happen.

Seeing the motorcade appear around the far corner of the square, snaking in an orderly line of cars along the left side and towards their position, Deunan had to remind herself to breathe. Eyes everywhere, trying to see everything all at once, she could practically feel the anticipation in the air around her, the entire team taut and ready for the kill. All that they needed was a sign, a target, an order to move, and they'd swarm like just so many avenging angels, down from their rooftops and hiding holes, onto the heads of any bad-guys who'd made the mistake of getting in their way.

It was probably a good thing, Deunan mused, telling herself not to get carried away with it all, that the civilians were gone. Less clutter on the field meant the squad could cut loose without guilt, if need be. It was time to get revenge against fate for the damned sub too, she figured. Sure it might not be related, but even if it wasn't, karma owed Briareos one. Fingers twitching over her controls as she scanned and rescanned her portion of the square looking for anyone or anything that didn't belong. Where had the cyborgs gone? Were they aware they were walking into a trap? Had they bolted before they could get captured? She bit her lip as she watched the cars crawl closer.

Her system lit up, drawing her attention away from the street as lines on her targeting screen abruptly triangulated on a building on the left side of the square. Deunan sighed, torn between pride and resignation at the ID tag on the team-wide transmission. Briareos had spotted the tail before the rest of them, earning his old nickname once more with his now cyberneticly-enhanced 'hawk eyes'.

That he'd picked out the solitary blue-plated exo suit, was nothing short of miraculous. Half-concealed by some optical camouflage as it crept along the ledge of the blue-plate-glass multi-story, the suit was all but invisible even when marked. Even Gaia's algorithms were having a hard time confirming what they were seeing, thanks to the cyborg's stealthy cover. Still, now that they knew what they were looking for, she was an easy mark. Which one was it? Deunan couldn't guess. Either of the cyborg-sisters was equally likely.

It was a little worrying that they couldn't spot the other one, however. Undoubtedly Briareos was already lining up a shot for their lady-in-blue, but she couldn't be operating alone. The only questions were, would there be only one more? Or had the terrorist-sisters mustered a whole gang that the intel folks hadn't sniffed out yet? And one or many, where were they hiding?

Magus didn't budged an inch, acknowledging the information as to one of their targets but determined not to move until the cyborgs had revealed a little more of their plan. He was really and truly hoping to drop right down on top of the women? Deunan marveled at his patience, or perhaps his stupidity, in putting off the strike for as long as possible. It was true, that the convoy _was_ a decoy, so if things got a little hot around the cars themselves, there wouldn't be a political stink raised, but never the less. It was a dangerous game to play. Their advantage would decrease dramatically if the team were obliged to go head to head with terrorists in the canyons of streets and warehouses beyond their previously-chosen battleground.

Deunan tisked to herself as she continued to scan for hostile movement nearby, it was far too tempting to just watch Blue, when what they all needed to do was look for anyone, and everyone else.

* * *

This time it was Gaia who found their mark. Alerts lit up on all their screens at once as the intel-jockies back at HQ blasted the data across the network. A second unidentified exo was working around the side, using back alleys and service roads to skirt the square entirely as they moved to intercept. Deunan nodded in grim acknowledgment of the cyborg-sisters' strategy. It was pretty much what she would have done, what she and Briareos _had_ done, on occasion, when hunting down a target back in SWAT.

"Deploy road-block. Reroute convoy to western exit from red-zone." Magus ordered the drivers below, seeing if he could force the terrorists' hand with a last minute change of route. Some plainclothes officers with a utility truck provided the necessary props for the subterfuge.

It was a bit contrived, Deunan thought, but not bad for a last-minute thing. The officers backed their over-sized work-truck into the road and blocked the majority of it before getting out and play-arguing with each other as they set up cones and detour signs. Just another inept road-crew causing a traffic snarl in Olympus? She had to smirk at that, compared to LA, her new city moved like well oiled clockwork when it came to closing off sections of the roadways for repairs and improvements. A local would never buy into the idea of a last-minute and unannounced project, luckily, their targets weren't locals.

The motorcade slowed and then made a left instead of proceeding straight to the embassy, cutting down the other edge of the square as if heading towards the highway. Sure enough, the blue exo, acting as rear-scout moved quickly in response, shifting position to see better what was going on.

Looking down at her monitors, Deunan noted that the second exo had also changed course, closing in as planned.

"Jackpot." She murmured to herself, pleased for everyone's sake that the feint was working well.

"Rockets." Briareos broke the silence in order to send the one-word warning to the crews in the limousines, well ahead of the group when it came to reacting to the new and unexpected threat.

There was just no time to offer further warnings, probably even less to duck for cover. Deunan cringed as the unanticipated projectiles slammed into the lead-vehicle of the convoy, lifting it off the ground with the strength of their blast. Two more went wide, taking out the ground floor of one of the buildings in a shower of glass and fire. Even armored, she wasn't sure how likely it was that the officers playing decoy could survive the direct hit.

The other cars responded immediately, pulling away from each other and in different directions as they sought to provide a scattered target for subsequent attacks. There was no time to ask where the phantom missiles had come from. With as close as both of their targets had been monitored, it was impossible that they could have missed something like that. Deunan toggled her safeties off, fingers moving of their own accord as she reacted to the sudden unpleasantness.

"Engage enemy!" Magus declared, "Beta, regroup! Alpha, focus on Blue! Reserve1, find me that shooter!"

"Going hot. Clear the strike zone." Briareos' typically calm voice cut across the sudden chatter of status and tactics on the channel. Choosing to hold his position on the high ground while the rest of the team engaged coils and cruised towards their target, her cyborg announced his intention to snipe ahead of them. The warning was valid, Deunan smiled grimly to herself, making sure to fly low enough to not risk getting in his line of fire. Not only would he probably be able to soften their target up for them with a few well placed hits, likely it would keep the woman too distracted with dodging him to be too interested in shooting more rockets at them while they were exposed.

Even in her exo, the sound of his un-silenced rifle firing across the empty square was amazingly loud. The sharp crack of the heavy slug exploding free of the barrel almost made her flinch. She couldn't help but look towards their goal, wanting to see the hit. The cyborg was able to dodge, barely. The glass wall immediately behind the blue exo dissolved into a rainstorm's worth of sparkling fragments with the force of the impact. Deunan had to whistle in quiet appreciation at how bizarrely beautiful the effect was, sunlight catching on the millions of splinters of glass as they cascaded down around the crouching cyborg. Returning fire with credible effort, the terrorist strafed and ran, recognizing that cover was the only effective way of dealing with the high power weapon arrayed against her. Dropping down through the shattered building, she disappeared from sight.

"Red exo, approaching from Lombard St." Someone from the auxiliary team reported on the radio from where they were fortifying their position. "We're taking fire, but should be able to hold it off your backs for a few minutes."

"Keep an eye out for further rockets." Magus advised, dumping power into his Hermes coils without a care for his battery life as he circled the far side of the building, spotting something worth shooting at.

Deunan didn't bother with subtlety, shooting out the glass of the high-rise's lobby to make a hole big enough for her exo to duck through, dropping to one knee she shifted weapons to her heavy carbine and waited for her prey to come to her. Sure enough, an exo tore through the shitty-prefab interior wall above her position. Its pilot's attention was focused on the outside, and Magus' shadow as he stalked her from above. Deunan smirked and lined up her weapon, liking the way they had the exo between them.

"Fire from below, 21, mind your toes."

"Ready."

The curt response was all the go-ahead she needed, toggling to full automatic, Deunan let a ribbon of bullets play through her gun, feeling viscerally pleased at the sight of sparks dancing along the blue plated exo she was aiming at. Flinching and ducking the new attack, her target wheeled on her on the air, and then punched through the front of the building, clearly hoping to make an escape.

96 and 120 were right there waiting for her, working in concert to further damage her custom armor. Another vicious 'crack' in the air heralded Briareos' return to the fight, having timed his next shot to coincide with the moment their prey broke free from cover. This time he hit her square, the armor-piercing bullet all but tearing off the blue exo's left anti-gravity panel, effectively grounding it for the remainder of the fight. Her teammates wasted no time in closing in for the kill. Deunan sprinted to join them. "Get down here old man, you've done all you can up there."

"Seems so." He agreed, not sounding too unhappy about it.

"Nice shooting, by the way." She had to compliment him, despite the majority of her attention being on the quick-moving cyborg currently tangling with 96.

"Thanks." Briareos sailed down towards them and then quickly veered right at the last minute. Deunan blinked at his abandonment before her brain belatedly reminded her that there was still another cyborg fighting her way across the square. He must have seen something over at the ad hoc barricade that he felt was more important than helping her dog-pile on Blue?

"You three secure that armor!" Magus ordered, also peeling away from their fight rather than engaging. Deunan cursed under her breath as 120 was thrown to the side with a lucky swipe, closing along with 96 and late arriving 42 in order to try and peel some of the exo's armor off with bullets as they played dodge'em across the square. If both Magus and Briareos thought the decoy team needed help to hold against Red, that was probably not a good sign.

The blue armor wasn't just damned-near bullet proof, it was also nimble as all hell. Deunan felt frankly envious as she watched her opponent do feats of acrobatics that her Guges would have been hard-pressed to copy, in order to avoid getting shot, or tackled, by three ESWAT officers. Grabbing the broken off length of a street light, Deunan timed her attack to follow on to 42's telling herself to not get distracted feeling sympathy for her teammate when 120 rejoined the fight just in time to get targeted again. She could hear him swear in frustration as the nimble cyborg countered his moves without effort, leaving him vulnerable. His Guges was picked up and thrown into the side of a building as Deunan swung her unlikely club against the cyborg's back. The hit connected as her last several hadn't, making a satisfying crunching noise as it did the exo's remaining Hermes coil in for good, along with denting the plating across Blue's shoulders.

Deunan was rewarded with a pistol shot, nearly point-blank, to her exo's chest.

The hit jarred her hard in her harness despite the monstrous amount of shielding surrounding her cabin. Screens still jittery from the blow, Deunan swung again, half blind, and felt, more than saw her enemy get swatted by her backhand. 42 did her the favor of opening fire on Blue as she unbalanced with the strength of her swing and fell away, gyros working overtime as her suit struggled to reset itself. The bullets didn't do much good for hurting the maniac, they at least drove her back enough to give Deunan room to regroup.

"Surrender your exo and come in quietly. You're not going to get very far with your gear in the shape it's in." 120 pulled himself free from a crushed storefront and tried for the police-procedural line. Deunan had to give him credit for wanting to take the high-road after eating gravel twice at the hands of the sex-bot terrorist. As expected, the only answer they got was another hail of bullets as Blue made a break for the closest alley.

"The hell you will." She found herself moving to counter even as she thought it. Slamming her hands and feet against the controls, Deunan goaded her exo into leaping forward, all but bouncing off the side of the building in order to leapfrog ahead of the woman before she could escape. Firing with both shoulder-mounted guns, she let the cyborg have it, knowing that the goal was to take the terrorist in alive, but not particularly caring what shape her body ended up being in beyond that. "Where do you think you're going, honey?"

Blue took the hint pretty quick, shrugging off the new damage as annoyingly as she had the previous hits, all but u-turning mid-jump to charge 42 where he stood guard, bowling him over as she decided on a new tactic. Deunan cursed, able to predict what the cyborg's next move would be. They'd done a pretty good job keeping the sisters apart for as long as they had, she figured grimly, it was inevitable that the two would try and join up; safety in numbers, and all that.

Still it really irked her that they couldn't have at least peeled some of the armor off first. It was like her bullets were made of taffy or something, for all the harm they were doing to the fancy-painted plating. Deunan had to wonder what the hell the suit was made of. Usually ESWAT had first dibs on the latest technology on the market. The idea that they were being outclassed by a bunch of freelancers was seriously annoying.

"113! Blue's headed your way!"

"Got it." Briareos redirected one out of his four guns to targeting the approaching exo while still using the others on her sister, forcing Blue to veer off from her goal with a rude gesture as she opted for the relative shelter of the still-burning wreck from their convoy. He continued on their private line without more than a pause for breath. "Tell the others, you all get your butts over here and stop fooling around, girl."

"Yes dad." She heckled grumpily, toggling her radio to match. "These suits are coated in frickin' diamond for all the damage we're doing! What gives?"

"21 is guessing that they've got some new type of static shield." Her partner mused, alternately strafing and ducking for cover as he exchanged fire with his target of choice. "They'll overheat with constant usage, so just keep hammering on her and you'll get through... eventually."

"Great." Deunan hissed, switching guns again to try and soak her opponent in bullets. 96 joined her a moment later, and they traded off harassing Blue, able to keep her credibly pinned, if not hurting, with the constant hail of bullets.

* * *

Something wasn't right, Deunan figured. Red and Blue were both seemingly committed to the fight, but the more she traded fire with them she couldn't quite see what they hoped to accomplish. They had to know at this point that their mission was a dud. A smart terrorist, she figured, would cut losses and run, hope to find another opportunity to strike once the heat died down. These two didn't seem to be backing down at all.

Were they suicidal? Deunan shook her head, not pegging either as the 'devout martyr' type. The cyborgs might be in the pay of Mufadi zealots, but they were definitely in it for the money, or the prestige, or whatever the hell it was that world-class terrorists wanted, when they picked fights with Olympus.

So why didn't they run? Were they looking to add a few ESWAT officers to their score cards first? Why? Other than bragging rights, what was there to gain? Deunan ducked again as Blue got around to returning fire, noting that the woman had worked her way left, compelling her to shift closer to where Magus was hiding. 96 was all but stepping on her as he sought to share her cover with her.

"They're herding us, 21!" 96 called warning to the older officer, saying aloud what Deunan's instincts were suddenly telling her.

Blue and Red weren't running, because they still felt they had the advantage. Her neck tingled with growing urgency, those same instincts telling her to break free of their potential trap before it was sprung.

"Scramble," was Magus's one word reply, everyone suddenly trying to kick into the air and disperse ahead of the expected attack.

It almost worked.

An unnoticed manhole cover almost directly beneath Deunan's feet suddenly wobbled and exploded upwards with a terrific blast of pent energy.

Deunan's suit registered the massive explosion, telling her in numbers and graphs just how strong the shockwave was even as she was tumbling through the air, riding on it. She cursed the technology's too-little-too-late information as she fought with her suit to try and control her landing a little. There just wasn't enough responsiveness to the sticks, her Hermes coils could reduce her effective mass but did nothing for her aerodynamics in the chaotic airflow triggered by the bomb.

Unable to do more than tuck her chin to her chest to brace for the impact, Deunan collided at speed with something hard-but-not-hard-enough, either a wall, or the ground, she couldn't tell, before breaking through it to tumble again out the otherside. This time when she hit, she stayed there.

Dizzy from the constant rolling, Deunan tried to catch her breath, letting herself acclimate to the fact that she'd stopped at last. It took a second for her monitors to clear, and another precious second to figure out which way was up. Her exo's status reports were scrolling across the secondary display, alerting her to a variety of level one and two damage. Still functional, it was a tough piece of hardware, but her armor was definitely 'hurting' from the bomb.

When the hell had the women had time to plant a bomb? And why _here_ instead of their intended killzone? And was that the only one? Her brain unhelpfully spun out a few scenarios in a row each more paranoid than the last as it scrambled to make some sense of her latest disaster. They were supposed to be hunters, not prey! This was twice now the cyborg sisters had turn tables on her in an op, and it was starting to have a whiff of conspiracy.

Deunan shook her head to try and unrattle her wits, and then slowly tried moving her arms and body, coordinating herself into sitting up to get a look around. She was _in_ a building, that much was clear. The smoldering hole that she'd created in the side of it, having ridden the shockwave for easily a hundred meters, was impressive. Not that far beyond, she could see 120's exo also staggering upright, as her teammate armor visibly blackened from the bomb. Briareos was nowhere to be seen but she could hear him barking information back and forth with Magus via the open connection on their private com link. Her official suit radio was mostly static. She tapped it in resignation trying to convince it to come back to life as the indestructible pair of officers tried to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.

Magus was shuffling backup units and ordering an orbital scan of the surrounding for more potential 'hotspots' that the bomb team would have to check out.

Doing her part, Deunan began a visual sweep for the enemies they _knew_ about in favor of ones still hidden while she waited for her suit to reconnect to the network. She spotted Red just in time to see the exo fiddling with what look like another detonator. Deunan didn't even bother to finish her thought, raising her weapon on instinct to fire off a round without any certainty that the weapon was functioning, or even loaded.

"Red's going hot!" She called, forgetting for a moment that likely no one could hear her.

Miracle of miracles, the shot flew flawlessly from her weapon directly to Red's outstretched hand, catching the cyborg completely off guard. Deunan couldn't help the startled, "Ha!" of delight from escaping her as she struggled to her feet, goading her armor to get a move on and _run_ like she knew it could, in order to close the distance between her and her prey.

Stung and startled, Red had dropped whatever it was she'd been setting up, and was now left with choosing to dive for the device, or her guns in the face of fresh opposition. The delay was all that her teammates needed. Maybe they d heard her after, Deunan mused, but even if they hadn't, they'd figured it out when she d started shooting. Suddenly it seemed there were ESWAT exo's _everywhere_ as both Alpha and Beta were regrouped and ready for the kill.

With equipment and pride equally scorched, her squad mates were all but dog-piling on the red exo in trying to get her down. Deunan marveled at the awesome sight for a second before choosing the paranoid option instead, detouring at the last moment to go for the detonator instead. There! She told herself, that would show her partner she could think on the field as well as shoot. It was no trouble at all to scoop up the little device, even with her oversized hands. Deunan spared herself a moment of black humor at the chance she'd just made a 1-in-a-million trick shot over something that might yet turn out to be a cigarette lighter, or some other benign tool. Still, on holding it up to her lenses, it _looked_ like something that would be military tech.

Nudging her suit radio proved it was working again. Mostly. "109 to command, I've got what looks like a detonator. If I drop it off, can one of the egg-heads use it to find the payload?"

"Make it quick." Her handler encouraged her flatly.

She took the advice as order, and kicked her hermes coils and thrusters into high gear, all but rocketing upwards with the strength of the jump. Deunan gritted her teeth again the pressure of the acceleration against her sore ribs. From street level to being able to look down on the buildings in the time it took to take a breath, she quickly snaked the short distance to where the truck was discretely tucked away, hoping to hell that someone had warned the two standing guard on top of it that she was coming in. As they didn't shoot on sight? Deunan figured it was fine.

No sooner than her exo's feet were on the ground, a pair of techs who looked remarkably similar to Yoshi perhaps they numbered among his hundreds of siblings? - were running towards her outstretched hands, collecting her prize from her for detailed analysis.

"109 standby in case there's a return package." Her com officer advised her when she turned in preparation for vaulting back to the fight.

"You've got to be kidding, Ernie. They need all the help they can get." She bit off before her brain could filter her mouth. Thankfully, ESWAT usually kept pairings between officers and their radio-personnel consistent when they could help it, and the guy was well used to her outbursts, letting it slide without comment.

"Standby." He sighed. "New orders in. Identify and contain anything found as position 4C now being tagged on your map. Area is too hot for bomb squad insertion, use your judgment on whether to disarm or contain. Goal is, minimize team casualties, secondary goal, minimize property damage."

"Rodger." Deunan saw the new goal light up on her internal map of the area and vaulted back into the air again,

"Your training logs say you've got a knack for this, 109, but good luck." Ernie continued in a slightly less professional voice once she was in the air.

She huffed in amusement at the unexpectedly kind encouragement, "Just do me a favor and don't tell 113 what I'm up to until _after_?"

As usual, he didn't answer the unofficial commentary, keeping their line open for more important things than banter.

The fight was still going bonkers in the square when she landed. Deunan frowned to see that the attempt to rush Red hadn't done much, in her absence. The pair of suits, red and blue, were positioned on the first and second floor of a smoking storefront as they held off any meaningful sort of assault from more than ten of ESWAT's best. Deunan marveled at their stamina. Even for cyborgs, they had to be feeling the pressure. At least they were starting to show signs of wear. Both of the fancy suits the terrorists were wearing were visibly dented and damaged. If they didn't try and bolt soon, Deunan wasn't sure they'd manage to do it at all. It only went to show, the ladies had to figure they had another ace up their sleeves at this point. Either that or they really _were_ bucking for martyrdom.

Deunan resisted the temptation to take a few pot-shots herself, following orders with grim determination. The first car she scanned then flipped over in her target area was unremarkable, the second? She hissed to herself at the businesslike box of nastiness she found tucked discretely under it.

"This is 109, I've found a live one." Crouching next to it to get full resolution on her cameras, Deunan studied the device with as much care as she could muster. "Looks like Simplex payload, basic two-wire setup. Probably planted it in a hurry and weren't worried about it being found. I can disarm it. Pass warning along to team, I don't want to be getting shot at in the middle..."

"All team members at safe distance." Ernie confirmed. "Enemy fire seems concentrated away from your position."

Her most recent drills hadn't been bomb-disposal _in_ her Guges, but the ones before those had. In her opinion it wasn't all that more difficult. Deunan drew a steadying breath and sank to her exo to a more-stable crouch, ensuring a minimum amount of 'shake' in her artificial limbs during the maneuver. Saying it wasn't harder, she told herself, didn't necessarily mean it was _easier_ either. All sensors trained on the box, she gingerly approached the initial steps of field stripping the explosive.

The next few moments were a bit confusing even for her. The cover plate came off smoothly. Her secondary radio scanner registered a chirp. She was jumping to her feet. She was flying sideways through the air.

Thank goodness for exo armor. Deunan thought to herself, feeling oddly relaxed about the whole thing as another explosive wave wrapped around her. Again she was tumbling, falling through things that didn't seem to stop her momentum in the least, until finally impacting hard against an unyielding surface. She shook her head with a strong sense of deja vu. Her cameras were dead, leaving her laying - was she laying down? - in a cockpit lit only by the small LEDs used to illuminate some of the critical switches and toggles. Deunan blinked to herself and calmly accepted the fact that she seemed to be alive, and probably wasn't hurt.

Blinking again, she recognized that her lack of concern _could_ be system shock, and made a minor effort to wiggle fingers and toes in order to determine whether there was any pain. It was almost impossible to visually inspect herself, wrapped in layers of armor and harness as she was, but at least preliminary investigation confirmed her suspicions that she was just fine.

"Go me." Deunan cheered herself softly in the darkness of her exo's interior.

"Ok, baby, now's when you've _got_ to come back to life. I can't do this without you..." She decided to see if cheering on her Guges would prove equally positive reinforcement for her exo. In a moment of humorous serendipity, her monitors chose that moment to flicker back to life, giving her a view of a broken bit of concrete with daylight streaming through the dust. Wall? Ceiling? Deunan tried to make sense of her gyro readings, and decided it was probably wall.

Her exo's status reports were looking decidedly less cheerful than they had at the start of deployment. Deunan resigned herself to a chewing out by the repair techs later. Still, if she was alive, and the suit was viable, there was nothing for it but to keep fighting. She shifted her arms and pushed at the various debris around her, finding out what would move, and what wouldn't. The silence inside her exo, with the radio offline again, and her ear-piece jarred into inactivity, was kind of peaceful. She could only just make out the distant thuds and shots of the ongoing battle.

Tilting her head sharply, Deunan tapped her right ear against her harness, trying to nudge at least her personal com back to life. It came alive with a crackle, then the soft silence that she usually equated with Briareos having muted his end of the line so that he could shout to other people and not have her complaining about her ears. Unlike her own com, which she wore in her ear and usually was obliged to keep active at all times, due to lack of a free hand to manipulate it, he wore his _inside_ his head, and so could pretty much guarantee a minimum of background noise on the line. The downside was, she couldn't hear any of his background noise even when he was unmuted, so it was impossible to tell if he was in trouble, or even breathless, most of the time.

Mustering the voice to tell him she was ok, she marveled as the light from beyond her chunk of wall suddenly went brilliant enough to max out her cameras again, the roar of a third blast in the square audible even when her partner's com link cut out, leaving her sitting in silence again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Promethean Blood - ch 17 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

There was an unexpected advantage to getting blown through the wall, Deunan decided as the smoke from the _third_ bomb cleared. The broken concrete above and around her had provided a pleasant amount of cover as the new wave of super-heated vapor erupted from the courtyard. The rattle also seemed to jar her suit's radios back to life, although only in bursts. Still dazed from her rough landing, she had to marvel at the insanity of it all as she listened to the frantic chatter on her coms.

Three explosions? Even in an evacuated district, they'd probably just made the evening news! Lance was going to be _pissed_. Her exo registered a huge level of heat as the initial curtain rolled over her hiding place, the shock-wave causing the monitors in her capsule to glitch momentarily before stuttering back to life.

Her personal com link reconnected without fanfare, reminding her she still hadn't told her partner she was ok from the previous blast she'd survived.

"Hey Bri. You alive over there?" She heard the wheeze in her voice and coughed to clear her throat.

Deunan banged on her suit's outer shell with a fist, hoping to jar her system back into a functional state while she waited for her partner to respond. Probably the thump wasn't necessary with the self-repairing electronics, but old habits died hard, and frizzed gear had often worked better after a careful kick or two during the war. Hell it'd even worked for her metal-plated boyfriend, once or twice. Not that the bastard had been grateful afterward. What a cyborg had to complain about, when his shins couldn't even bruise, was beyond her understanding.

"Bri?" She hailed him again, worried that he hadn't responded yet. "Can you read? What's your status?"

Doubly armored, both with his exo, and his 'skin', it was unlikely that he was badly damaged, even with the multiple bomb-blasts. She told herself not to worry. Still, the nagging doubts wouldn't let her feel entirely easy until she heard his aggrieved voice answering her on their private channel.

"_I'm_ fine." He came through loud and clear, causing her to sigh in relief. True to form for the past few days, he was all but growling as he barked at her. "_You're_ the one I'm worried about! Damn it, Deunan...I would have thought you'd be tired of blowing yourself up by now! What the hell was _that_? If you didn't think you could handle the-"

"It was detonated remotely, jackass." Deunan snapped back, annoyed by the unexpected criticism. Funny how only a moment before, she'd been genuinely worried about his health and well being. The proof that her partner was alive was both abrupt and unpleasant. Trust Briareos, she sighed, to manage to quash all her renewed romantic sentiment towards him with his damned practicality.

Not even an 'are you ok, girl?' before he dove straight into his performance review? It was like their heart-to-heart twelve hours ago had never happened. So much for expecting anything to change. She told herself to not be disappointed at the status quo and bit back her impulse to call him on it, in favor of concentrating on the job at hand. Mentally nudging her suit's systems, she told it to pull up any recorded data from the last several minutes.

"If you don't believe me, my suit was close enough to record the incoming transmission." She announced grimly. "You're welcome to sit in during my competency hearing during post-op. I'll send you an invitation, shall I?"

If he was going to revert to being a jerk, she didn t see any point in trying to play nice. Either he was going to be serious about fixing things between them or he wasn't, she supposed, but she was tired of always being the one to feel bad. She d kept her end of the bargain thus far, no matter what he apparently thought. The fact that the bad guys were _trying_ to kill her wasn't her damned fault. She d been positively tentative by her standards thus far on the op. She'd stayed with her squad, kept to cover, followed orders, had minimal radio chatter. He'd wanted her by the book? He'd damned well _got_ it. If he dared to say she was being sloppy at the end of this? She'd belt him herself, regardless of how dented he already was, and take the disciplinary citation with a smile.

Deunan wriggled her exo as best she could in the rubble, trying to upright herself while waiting for the remaining subsystems to finish their diagnostics. That's if the sensor data didn't get corrupted with the secondary blow-over, of course. She grumbled to herself, not liking the way that the electrics seems to be a little flaky when she moved the exo-skeleton's legs. There was definitely some maintenance in her future.

Accessing the necessary screens once she was standing tall again, Deunan sighed in relief to see that the suit _had_ recorded some sort of subtle signal. Mere seconds before the suspect device had armed and detonated itself, the chirp of data was probably nothing special, but the forensics guys would want it just the same. She felt a little smug at having caught the 'evidence', given that the bomb had almost gone off at her fingertips.

Almost had been the operable word, she recognized grimly. Had the explosive actually gone off as she'd been leaning in to diffuse it, her exo's arms would have probably been slagged, and she herself would have been a mess too. Luckily, she'd recognized subconsciously even the strange glitch on her monitor for what it was, and had turned her body sideways to present a narrower, and strategically more-shielded profile to the ensuing blast.

Yet another thing, Deunan figured, to thank her dear old dad for in hindsight.

Why her father ever thought to impart such a random bit of trivia to her as a teenager, she couldn't recall. 'Turn your left into the blast, girl, let your armor take the damage, not your guts,' echoed in her head in his gruff bark even now.

Never a 'turn right', she smirked to herself, or simply 'turn', but always 'turn left'. The fact that he bothered to think it through to the point where he was willing to sacrifice his non-dominant hand, in event that the blast _did_ penetrate armor, was typical over-planning from the colonel.

Funny, the way years later, she could so easily recall his voice. More even than his face, that was what she remembered, the always dissatisfied tone of his critique in her earpiece as she played hunter-hunter on the training grounds. Years of brutal simulation training, followed by a world war had left her with a level of combat paranoia that raised eyebrows even within the jaded ranks of ESWAT HQ's resident psychologists. But she couldn't really bring herself to feel concerned over her evident mental stress and borderline PTSD. It had saved her and partner's life more than once.

It was weird to think of her father after so long. Still, the advice had proven itself rather useful in application. Trust her old man to bother to impart knowledge to her on entire branches of combat that she ought to have never needed to know about. Her suit's left arm, and thigh, had taken the brunt of the damage. Status lights came up yellow and orange along the damaged limbs as the software took a full accounting of what was, and wasn't functioning within expected tolerances. Deunan could _feel_ the heat still radiating from the left side of the suit's skin as the cooling systems hummed away, working on overdrive to keep both her, and the critical electronics around her, from cooking like a foil-wrapped potato.

"You ok, Deunan?" Briareos asked belatedly, sparing her a moment's worth of concern as the main-channel's radio chatter paused. "Send in that signal profile, if you haven't yet. Command may be able to use it to sniff out the other surprise packages elsewhere..."

"You should have quit while you were ahead. For a second there it almost sounded like you cared." Deunan critiqued dryly, resisting the urge to get further riled at the way that even when trying to be nice, he never could just trust her to be competent without the rookie reminders. The signal was already packaged and in process of being copied up to CIC truck via satellites. The only thing keeping her from calling it in was the fact her exo was still trying to reconnect the satellite channels.

"Not the time, girl." His warning tone, tinged with a minor note of chagrin, told her her her own critique had been received. She smiled to herself in grim vindication and let the matter drop. If he wanted another cat-fight, she d be happy to oblige him, but _after_ the operation was done.

Using a bit of wall, and her good arm, she navigated over the worst of the rubble to get herself into a better situation. Muttering her suit to hurry up and reroute power away from damaged circuits in order to get external audio again, she winced when she got her wish. The immediate din of shouting and gunfire from beyond her accidental hiding place was headache inducing. The 'party' hadn't stopped just because the plaza was now a series of craters. Whatever the cyber-sisters' armor were made of, it was apparently damned-near-indestructible, because they were taking all ESWAT could dish out, and _still_ managing to return fire in a credible way.

Deunan caught sight of a maroon exo-suit ducking behind a wall to hide from Briareos heavy gauge, and raised her weapon instinctively. Thankfully stored in her right hand, the massive gun hadn't been melted by the recent blast. Snapping off five rounds as she shuffled back to cover, Deunan cursed to realize that she was the _only_ person on the squad who had a clear line of sight on the woman. This meant, of course, that the terrorist would have a bead on her as well. A near-miss ricocheted off the wall next to her and still had enough force to sting when it further rebounded off her armored arm.

"Yeowch!" She winced as she reacted to the attack, ducking lower and strafing back in the hopes of flushing the terrorist out into her teammate's waiting barrage. The distant woman in the red exo made a rude gesture at her through the smoke as she dodged to the right.

"Deunan?" Briareos' voice in her ear actually sounded worried as he noted her discomfort.

She leaned sideways to knock her earpiece with her shoulder guard, crudely muting him a moment in favor of taking care of more urgent business. The uplink was back online, but judging by the way the status was flickering she didn't know for how long. "109 to HQ, I am solo and have visual on red suit. Location is behind broken wall on west side of of square. I'm pinned down, any chance of aerial support?"

"HQ copy, 109." At least Ernie seemed happy to hear she was alive. Her radioman responded immediately to her question. "What's your status? Your suit's stat-sys is offline, probably from blast?"

"Status ok, not great." She agreed grimly, lining up another shot when her target dared to poke her head up, keeping the woman pinned down as well. "Can you take manual data transfer? I have a chirp I want intel to see."

"Manual ok." Her handler pithily agreed as he prepped the channel on his end. "Colonel says hold position. Suppressing fire. Maintain visual contact. Further backup minimal until smoke clears. Transfer when you hear the tone..."

"109 copy." She drawled, accepting her lot. It'd be a game of whack-a-mole for a little while, she figured. Deunan ducked when it was once again her turn to take fire from the distant cyborg. "Maintaining visual. Target is pinned, for the moment. Waiting tone."

The expected ping followed a moment later. She nudged her suit to cough up a stream of encrypted data onto the server before closing the line.

"For god's sake, girl. Cut it out with the petty games and talk to me. What happened? Are you hurt?" Deunan unmuted her personal line just in time to catch her partner's complaint. She rolled her eyes at his grousing, noting that it'd been less than a minute of distraction on her end. "Come on, Deunan. Answer me already or I'm coming over there to find you..."

"First you're yelling at me for not doing my job fast enough to suit you. Now you're yelling because I'm too busy _working_ to chat with you?" She made sure to mute her general com on the off chance that the radio was working so she could vent a little at him in private. She probably hadn't needed to bother, Deunan decided, noting that her suit had once more lost contact with the rest of the squad. Typically, her personal communicator, linked as always with Briareos on their encrypted channel, was working perfectly. Strafing her target again, she tried to expend the majority of her bad mood on the enemy rather than her partner. "There s just no winning with you, you know that? I'm fine. Leave off bitching at me, and do something about _them_ if you're so worried!"

It was impossible to tell which sister she was shooting at with the way the armor wrapped around the cyborgs' heads. Catching a glimpse across the square to where the blue armor was tangling with not only Briareos, but four other of ESWAT's finest, she got the impression that she might have the better end of the deal in terms of difficulty. Her opponent noticed her distraction, more than happy to use the advantage to spatter gunfire her direction. Bullets raked Deunan's shoulder, luckily glancing off her armor instead of chewing through it. She hunkered lower behind her cover, just in case the cyborg got the bright idea of reloading with something more lethal.

Checking her own ammo magazines to appraise what was left, Deunan weighed her options. Tracers, incendiaries, AP's, a veritable arsenal's worth of choices were teasingly displayed at her bidding. She wasn't in the mood for finesse. Her fingers twitched deftly as she toggled up her selections, manually loading the next ten rounds into the belt of her main gun.

"We're working on it." Her partner grumbled, cowed into good behavior for the moment. "These women are proving as tough a pair of customers as they were at the club."

"Too tough for _you_?" Deunan teased archly as she prepared herself for another shootout.

Alternating between shoulder mounted hardware and her suit's remaining hand, she unloaded first a spray of conventional bullets to force her prey out of hiding, and then tried for something tactical with her larger-barreled weapon. The tracers went wide, as she'd meant them too, doing their job of dazzling and distracting the criminal she was targeting for the necessary second it took to land the real payload. Disguised amongst the multiple impacts of the AP rounds, the tracking-slug buried itself into the armored-cyborg's abdominal plating, dead center of mass. Deunan dove for cover to avoid the inevitable barrage of retaliatory fire, grinning in pleasure as her systems confirmed positive contact with the passive sensor planted on her prey.

Even if the bitch broke through their dragnet, Deunan figured she'd be too paranoid to ditch the valuable armor immediately. Wherever the cyborg ran to, any ESWAT on the ground within a quarter mile would be able to give chase now. With any luck, she d bolt right back to the terrorists hidey-hole.

Glancing to her left, Deunan blinked and toggled ammunition again, reacting to another of those once-in-a-battle opportunities. The cyber-chicas were clearly suffering from the same explosion-rattled com-equipment as her own team was. The blue armored woman had hopped backwards out of ESWAT's attack, while Deunan had been playing with her sister. What the woman hadn't realized, was that she'd backed right into Deunan's line of fire.

Heavy AP slugs locked into her belts, Deunan lined up for a shot, pausing only to give warning to whoever was on the other side. "Bri. I don t trust my general radios, they re flaky as hell right now. So pass it on. 'Hit the deck'. Friendly fire on blue from three o'clock!"

Hearing him echoing her message to the men nearby, she dumped shells into the cyborg with grim determination. Taking the rare opportunity to Swiss-cheese a slippery enemy, and she figured it was better to error on the side of excess given how handily blue had been holding off her partner. Deunan fought the gun's kick as she painted bullets along the blue armor's shoulder and arm, concentrating her fire as much as possible on the exposed joints of the suit's elbow. The woman was fast to react - cyborg fast- but her moves were hampered significantly by the barrage of explosions and heavy hits driving her back into the brickwork of the adjoining parking structure. Blue armor plating sparked and chipped under the repeated hits, crumbling slowly but surely with her direct assault.

Deunan resisted the malicious urge to pan her gun left in order to aim for the exo suit's exposed head. If she pasted the mercenary's cyber-brain, the detectives would probably never find out what the women's true goal was supposed to be. She in turn would never heard the end of their bitching about it. Deunan sighed and focused her energy on disabling the canny cyborg instead of killing her. Playing 'cops' in the game of cops vs. robbers was a drag for a reason.

Seconds after it started, her window of opportunity was gone. Caught between blue's retaliation, and the recovering red's extra-heavy sniper rounds trying to take her from the side, Deunan chose to scramble rather than risk herself with further heroics. Her radio re-synched with command with a weak beep, reminding her that she ought to brief them on the other bit of good news she could offer.

"109 to HQ, tracking tag 112059 applied to red target. I repeat, red target tagged. ID 112059. Concentrate satellites on the blue armor. We can chase Red on foot if need-be."

"Good initiative, 109." Lance's voice replaced Ernie in responding to her. "Tag confirmed by 21 and 107. Do you have visual on blue target?"

A fresh cacophony of battle behind her motivated Deunan to get her battered armor back into a position where she could observe both of terrorists. "Yeah, she's real popular right now. We need better guns, Colonel, these aren't getting the job done."

"So it seems. It's likely they'll attempt evasion soon. Make yourself a burr, 109, and _stick_ to that red exo. Follow but do _not_ engage until authorized. And this time? Don't get distracted!"

"Yessir." Deunan made a face in her helmet at the timely reminder of what happened last time she'd been told to chase a perp by Lance. Sure, she'd lost track of the mystery man with the big nose and horrible bowl-cut hairdo, but she'd found a pair of _cops_ crushed to death in their damned police van!

What was she supposed to do, walk away from that?!

In any other unit, taking initiative to apprehend a den of cop-killing gangsters, almost single handed, would have gotten her a medal, a commendation least. What had she gotten from the Colonel? The mother of all ass-chewings for deviating from assigned orders. Deunan blew a frustrated huff of air at herself, knowing that he was probably right, and that she should have stuck with her original suspect. Let Magus trace the crooks as part of his overall mop-up efforts at the embassy. A group that big and stupid would have been found sooner than later, traced back by the gear they'd stolen from the dead squad-members.

She just hadn't been able to walk right into the middle of them and not _do_ something about it. Sacrificing the long game for the short, Lance had called it, accusing her of not being able to see the big picture.

It was galling. Deunan chewed her lip and resolved that this time, she'd follow her target to hell if need be, to prove to the old man that she could. Red wasn't going to get away.

Taking shots where she could, Deunan waited for the inevitable signal from the two to break out of their losing battle. Blue made the opening move, all but pouncing on Briareos' suit as she made one last-ditch effort to get the better of her opponents.

"Bri?" Deunan could only spare him a fraction of her attention. Obliged to keep herself focused on the red suit as it tangled with 120 again, she felt torn between an instinct to go to her partner's aid, and follow her directive.

"Stick with the red!" His bark echoed what Lance had ordered, comforting her somewhat in her hesitation. He'd been eavesdropping, of course. "The team and I can sort this lunatic out. Just don't lose that one!"

"Don't let that bitch peel you out of your armor!" She barked back, trusting, for lack of other option, her fellow squad members to keep her partner from any serious harm while she was distracted. 120 was just too slow to keep the red exo pinned for long, two titanic punches from the cyborg woman and he was knocked back, potentially knocked silly.

Deunan raised her gun and fired an AP into the the red armor's shoulder, both to keep her from getting cute and trying to go for the kill on her teammate, as well as goad her into turning tail and running while her 'sister' was too distracted to warn her that she might have a tail chasing after her.

It took only a moment's hesitation before the terrorist did exactly as Deunan hoped, glancing quickly towards her embattled sister before legging it for the nearest alley in order to lose herself in the complicated nest of warehouses and freight buildings beyond.

Whistling cheerfully to herself, Deunan counted to five and gave cautious chase.

* * *

BRIAREOS

At first it seemed the crazy woman in the blue the armor would _never_ run out of tricks to foil his team with. Briareos ducked and dodged the worse of her punches, somehow finding himself in a bizarre sort of tag-team with his commander, and 120, as he fought to gain the upper hand over his canny opponent. Grappling her into a shoulder throw, Briareos let momentum carry the woman away from him for a moment. Magus was right there and ready where she landed, almost repeating the maneuver as he parried her assault in order to keep the cyborg disoriented and distracted before trading off with their teammate for yet another exchange.

Able to observe the rest of the squad via the satellites with a fraction of his attention, Briareos judged when their trap was set and ready. He easily 'caught' the blue armor when Magus let her slip past him and goading her with gunfire, he drove her towards where the rest of the team waited. 46 and 107 deployed their sticky netting canisters right on cue, all but cocooning the terrorist's exo in the microfiber entanglement web. Doubly hindered by her damaged gear and entrapping filament, their suspect crashed to the ground with a curse that was audible even through her armor.

Briareos dared to take a breath at the victory, pleased at how the cyborg was down at last. He spared a nudge to his AI to check to see where Deunan had stalked off to, but it was too soon to celebrate. Writhing on the cracked asphalt, the blue armor seemed to shiver in a way that ought to have been physically impossible given its mass, and level of damage. The next thing he knew, their netting was a shredded nest of debris on the pavement. The blue armored terrorist lunged to her feet once more. The evidence of new and very effective counter-technology for their favorite non-lethal suppression gear was something that the gadget-gurus back at HQ were going to have a minor panic attack about later, he speculated. Telling his AI to flag his memories from the last several seconds for his report, he focused on his present predicament instead.

The blue-clad cyborg made no bones about going directly for _him_ again.

What was it about him, Briareos had to wonder, that made him so attractive to crazy women? The natural corollary was to ponder whether Deunan herself fell into that category, when push came to shove. To be fair, most cyborgs, female or otherwise, were only interested in his AI, and probably didn't give a shit about _him_ other than that he was currently attached to it. He was pretty sure with Deunan that she was the opposite in that regard. She usually had more personal goals in mind when she pounced on him out of nowhere. For her, his supposedly priceless Hecatonchires system was seemingly just another piece of his gear, necessary to his daily functioning but no more interesting to her than the various filters and pumps he also required to live.

He couldn't quite be sure yet, what this terrorist's aim was. Was his current opponent yet another AI hunter? Or was she persistently targeting him because she recognized him from the fight at club? Either of the two sisters might hold a grudge at him for his role in their third sibling's take-down. Or was it simply because he was the largest of the group arrayed against her, and therefore the clearest threat? He had no idea.

Still, as it proved convenient for the others, he supposed her seeming obsession with wanting to beat him down was acceptable. He could certainly survive a few extra punches from her. As battered as he'd likely be later, at least he'd have no broken bones, which was better than some of his teammates might manage at the end of the day. An added perk, in his mind, was that thanks to her absolute focus on him, she was far less aware of the maneuvering of the rest of ESWAT around her.

Briareos raised four of his arms to block the terrorist's two as the blue armor balled its fists together for one tremendous strike. The force the cyborg could generate was unbelievable when taking her relative size into consideration. He couldn't fathom how she was managing it. Some new variant on Hermes technology built into her suit where gravity was magnified instead of mitigated? He was pretty sure it was impossible. The laws of thermodynamics just didn't work that way.

She hauled back to strike again and Briareos had to wonder a second time at where she was getting the acceleration from, feeling his panels dent under her blow. His exo-armor was taking the brunt of the damage but at the rate she was going, his body's elbows would need to be replaced to. He could feel his shock-absorbers struggling to accept the force that his armor couldn't absorb entirely.

Deunan would scold like hell later, he figured, when she heard he'd let himself get used as a punching bag for the sake of the others. It motivated him to at least try and avoid a third titanic hit. Using the exo's battered hand to block her, he utilized his own arms to strike back with the modest goal of keeping the woman occupied with defense instead of offense.

It had to be the same woman he d fought in the club, he gradually concluded. The longer he traded blows with her the more her rhythm felt familiar, predictable. Briareos saw an unorthodox opening as he shifted to dodge a sharp kick, and took it. Lunging forward to get all four hands wrapped around one of her legs, he couldn't stop her second kick entirely but was confident he could catch the outstretched limb. He all but lost his footing as the hit connected, dragged sideways with the strength of her movement. Shifting his stance, he bid his exo's oversized feet to dig in against the concrete before he nearly took out a teammate with his unexpected sideways-momentum. The hard wearing armor did its best, ripping up several inches of the street beneath him but leaving him steady and with a good grip on the terrorists leg. Guiding his four hands to wrap tightly around her plated calf and thigh, he ensured that he wasn't going to let go again. This wasn't the sister who'd tried to smash Deunan to paste in the club, he figured, but she was - if possible - even worse. There was no way she was getting away from him in one piece. Clamping his fingers, and his exo's both, he increased the pressure as far as he could, twisting at the same time.

The woman he held captive was no fool, quickly wising up to what he was attempting to do. Had he been a normal man, in a normal exo, being wildly kicked and hammered at by his captive might have made him hesitate, or lose his grip. She was trying desperately to rip at his head and shoulders, hoping to scare him into letting go with her clear intention of trying to beat his head in or twist it off. But he was as much a cyborg as she was, plated and armored on top of that. The blows hurt, but in no way hampered his own efforts to break her leg. He tucked his chin to his chest and trusted his ESWAT armor to hold up under the abuse.

Plating on the blue suit beneath his hands buckled with the strain it was under, never designed for the point-pressure he was applying around her knee joint and shin. Magus and the others were helping as best they could, abandoning guns in favor of looping a steel cable around her arms and neck, prying her away from her futile efforts to blind or bludgeon him in order to free herself. It took four exo-suited men to try to wrestle her down. Still Briareos twisted, until it wasn't just the plating but the metallic limb beneath that was exposed and buckling. If she'd been human, he'd get written up, he supposed, for unnecessary abuse. He was no sadist, even in the heat of battle. If she was human, he supposed he wouldn't have the stomach for what he was about to do. It wasn't a _real_ leg he was shattering, after all, just metal and polymer fiber and electronics. Watching the white and yellow 'blood' spraying as the various hydraulic systems broke and leaked between his hands, Briareos had to admit that it was still pretty disgusting.

Deinoa, or that was who he assumed her to be, tried one last ditch effort to kick herself lose, trying for a heel-chop against his head as she screamed in pain and fury. Letting go of her mangled right knee with two hands, Briareos caught and clamped on her left, using her own momentum against her as he snapped that joint too with an abrupt yank and twist.

Her enraged screaming only got louder with two limbs now disabled. He staggered backwards, as the others swarmed in, victory assured. It hadn't been pleasant, he admitted to himself as his adrenaline cooled. He was painted in the various leaked fluids, and the sounds of a woman in distress, even a mostly mechanical one, and a psychopath as well, jangled his nerves badly. Magus didn't seem phased at all, sounding more pleased than anything as he announced casually to the colonel listening in that they had _finally_ captured their target, and alive as well.

Subduing her sufficiently to get her through triage and secured took considerably longer. Briareos was thankful that all he was needed for at that point was to help guide the armored helo in to land safely, so it could do the necessary pickup. Studying his dented and stained fingers he found the memory of the war, and the last time he d been obliged to tear a fellow cyborg apart with bare hands, to be jarringly fresh in his memory. It was Tomahawk all over again. At least this time he was confident his desire to kill the woman was 100% his own and not just an echo of the other cyborg's insanity.

Still, part of him really wanted Deunan's reassurance that what he d just done wasn't abnormal somehow. Even with their recent sniping at each other, he trusted her opinion on such things far more than some strange shrink at the hospital asking him about his feelings.

Probably, she d have been cheering him on, he decided at last. Probably she d have been yelling at him for twisting a leg off and not her neck. He almost laughed to himself at the likely heckling his girl would have provided. Deunan would have hardly been one to counsel restraint against this particular pair of criminals, she had been out for blood herself. Thinking of his girl reminded him that he still hadn't heard from her. Not so much a a peep? A question? A 'how are you doing'? It wasn't like her to be so quiet.

"We're not done yet folks! We've still got a tail to tail." Magus advised cheerfully, mustering the team to renewed efforts with personality alone. Unphased, as ever, by the grueling and messy battle they'd all just survived, he was already planning their next target. "Anyone short on shells, you have two minutes to re-up before we move. Then we go hunting after 109 and her red-rabbit. HQ, do you have a satellite on her?"

Briareos nodded silently in agreement with his captain's plan, already ahead of the game as he reached out to ping Deunan's personal radio and get her location. She d been gone for a while without checking in with him. If she was focused on her chase, and he hoped to hell she was, then it was probably a good thing that she was too busy to be chatty.

Deunan was in her exo, he told himself. She was probably just fine. The fact that the _last_ time she'd gone off on a solo in her exo during an op, she d ended up in a one woman knife fight against ten terrorists in a bombed-out warehouse basement, was less comforting. On the other hand, she'd taken down those same ten guys all on her own, he had to remind himself. His girl was tough, she _could_ handle herself most of the time. It was just the odds stacked against her that gave him the chronic nightmares.

Briareos checked his guns and tried to not fidget as he waited for his team to regroup and go in search of his partner. With so much debris still in the air, it was unlikely that there'd be much to see from the sky sat's in the near vicinity, and they'd do equally little good if Deunan had chased her prey indoors, or underground.

Undoubtedly Magus and the other leaders were trying to pinpoint her location via her suit's com gear. He suspected that they'd find what she'd been worried about minutes ago, which was that the tech in her exo was badly damaged from her near-miss with the car-bomb. Their personal link had been working fine however, protected inside her armor with her, as it had been. So he felt a cold finger of dread down the remaining fragments of his spine when he reached for the connection, and came up with nothing, not even an echo back from the muted line. Contrary as ever, his girl had switched the damned thing off right when he needed her to be chatty. Briareos swore softly to himself.

"Don't you have a secondary link to your partner?" Magus connected over to him for a private chat just as he was trying again to make the com channel connect. "Although how you argued that past the brass, I have no idea..."

"Told them that we were going to have one with or without their nod." Briareos murmured grimly, "Gave them a choice of providing approved hardware, or living with whatever encryption tech we could scrounge up on our own on the black market."

"You're so laidback most of the time." His captain scolded, amused at his revelation. "A guy can forget that you can play hardball when you want to. So what's the news?"

"She's offline." Briareos confessed. "I don't know where the hell she is."

"Great." The curly haired officer sighed. "HQ's got no ping back on her suit radios either. But her last hardware status report sorta implied they were 3/4 fragged anyway. There may be an intermittent ping if we get closer, and we do have the tracer tag from the red armor... we'll do this the old fashioned way until she contacts you, hey?"

Speaking to the larger group, Magus held up his exo's hands to get their attention. "Ok. We've got a radio failure! This doesn't necessarily mean anything bad! But it does mean we're going to have to go street to street. You'll pick up that tracer s chirp anywhere within a hundred meters or more of our target, so fly low and slow, and stick to your grid. Cordons are going up on all major roads in and out of this zone, but I'm thinking our perp's going to try and foot it out of here, keeping out of sight of our eyes in the sky. Everyone keep a sharp eye out as you explore your assigned grid! Suspect is assumed to still be armed and dangerous. If you see something, call it in and we'll all come running. And listen for radio static from 109's exo, it might not be up to communicating, but you might get a ping off it all the same!"

"46, you're in no shape to fly, ride back with our guest in the helo. If that crazy woman tries to get up, or do anything other than breathe. Feel free to shoot her anywhere you want so long as it's below the neck. 113 you're with me. Everyone else, pair up and let s head out." Magus nodded to his team as they disbursed, hopping airborne and gesturing that they could tackle the first of a dozen zone assignments that were popping up on the team display screens.

"Keep trying on your radio too, big guy." The captain added to Briareos on a private channel.

He didn't need the reminder, poking at the dead link as if prodding a sore tooth. Its continued silence was nerve wracking.


	18. Chapter 18

**Promethean Blood - ch 18 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

Creeping as quietly as she could in a half-ton of faulty hardware, Deunan tried not to breathe too loudly as she paced her target in the dark confines of the underground loading dock. She'd already turned off all nonessential electronics, and dialed down the power on the majority of the essential ones in an effort to make herself more invisible to any sensor sweeps the red armor might be tempted to try. For the moment at least, it was working. The cyborg ahead of her proceeded cautiously, but without the extraordinary degree of paranoia that would imply she knew she was being followed.

They'd been keeping indoors, or in shadow, for the most part since leaving the scene of the fight. Down through a series of interconnected service ways and underground freight tunnels, they'd zigged and zagged for several excruciating minutes in the narrow spaces, leaving Deunan wondering whether she d have to abandon her suit after all in order to keep the trail. But luckily her bulk wasn't all that different from her quarry's. The terrorist chose routes that conveniently, both of them could fit through easily. Deunan was totally turned around thanks to the variety of tunnels, but her suit had been logging a trace on their path, and once above ground she had confidence she could get at least the GPS to work, if not her full set of radios. She wouldn't be lost for long.

A flash of daylight ahead implied that her target had opted for a return to the streets, at least for a moment. Deunan couldn't pretend she wasn't relieved at the change of tactic. She was curious to see, once she poked a scope past the door to confirm her exit would be unobserved, that they'd crossed the better part of the warehouse neighborhood behind the now demolished corporate zone, and were almost at the freight harbor.

Would the cyborg try and retreat to one of the missing submersible landmates? She speculated to herself, wishing she dared try and power up her damaged radios to ask for a squad to go over and squat at the water's edge to potentially meet them on arrival. Or was this a bluff, and her target would cut west towards the next major transport link? Determined to follow and see, Deunan shuffled gingerly forward, mindful of potential clutter that might make noise as she stepped carefully over and around crates and barrels stacked around the side-door.

Her target was well ahead. The small blip on her sensor scope retreated quickly for several hundred meters and then turned sharply, racing further west, parallel with the water as she cut towards downtown. Deunan swore and gave chase, sacrificing stealth for speed as she sought to not lose the weak signal. Trusting that there was cover enough to not be seen, Deunan slipped through the door, making brief note of the building's number before poking a scope around the corner to confirm the way was clear and jogging after her target. Her GPS reacquired in the first few steps, giving her more confidence that she could find her way back to the group if needed, or guide them in, more likely.

The red armor was only just visible to the eye, jogging silently along the edge of the roof of a long storehouse as it tried to make time towards its goal. Out in the open as it was, Deunan marveled that the woman dared to expose herself to being spotted from orbit.

The tell-tale shimmer of optical camouflage caught her eye as the red armor jumped from one building to the next in the bright sunlight, proving that the cyborg wasn't as much stupid, as canny. Red was banking on the fact that while she might be visible to the trained eye of a person a machine would have a hard time distinguishing her from a bird or other irrelevant bit of clutter in the image. The thing was, she smiled to herself at the realization, that _her_ exo armor didn't have optical-cammo at the moment. Gaia could and would probably see her just fine and eventually report the useful intel to her team. The only issue was, in letting the satellites see her she made herself a target for her prey as well. There was just no winning some days, Deunan sighed to herself.

Sticking to the shadows, Deunan tried to find the ideal distance to follow without being caught at it, quietly impressed by the ground they were covering. She needed to find some way, she mused, to get a signal out. They were already well outside the zone of any default cordon that might go up, thanks to their clever underground shortcuts earlier. If her teammates weren't able to track based on _her_ location, it was likely they were looking in the entirely wrong area. Deunan weighed falling back further so as to attempt a discrete radio broadcast, compared to just continuing to run silent and thus not risk losing her prey. For the moment at least, she was confident that the red armor was easy to keep an eye on, even with an extended distance.

Judging it worth the risk, Deunan prodded her suit to see what it could do to make contact with headquarters despite the damage. She sighed at her bad luck. It was just no good. Even the static was weak. There were likely electrical issues, on top of the damaged external antennas. Shouldering her ear, she tried for Briareos via the small transmitter, and got the faintest of pings back from him, but their com link wasn't meant for long distances, and a ping was all she could get out of the damned thing. Hopefully it would be enough, Deunan mused, leaving both on as she tailed her prey from further back.

"Come on team, don't let me down." She muttered as she chose a parallel street to the terrorist's chosen path, in the hope of getting a little closer to the rogue exo-suit. It was worrying to lose visual contact, but the little dot on her sensor held position, making her confident that she could stay on top of the woman even if she did an abrupt course change. There were a few people out and about to give her strange looks, but the majority of workers in the area seemed to be gone. Maybe the harbor area was closed down as part of the conference security protocols? She had no idea.

The tracker dot on her screen shifted slightly, but seemed to be settling into one particular area, only moving a little in random directions instead of its previous steady progress away from the fight. Deunan grinned in anticipation. Had she finally found 'the hideout'? It would be an awesome thing if it was true. Creeping a little closer, she tried to guess which building of a pair that the red exo had ducked into. It was now sitting stationary, as far as she could tell. Sitting still, Deunan suddenly realized, wasn't necessarily a good thing. It meant the cyborg might be taking the damned plating off in preparation to leave it behind. The tracer round would hardly do her any good then! Huffing in annoyance, she risked getting a little closer to try and see with her own eyes where the cyborg had snuck off to.

There was nobody to comment on her arrival in this particular side street, and Deunan used her battered sensors to carefully sweep the building she as she slid along side of it, trying to determine if her missing cyborg was inside. The tracker in the armor was showing up bright and clean, which was a plus. But it still wasn't moving. Edging up to a corner, Deunan extended a scope round the corner again, curious to know if there was a door or other opening in the otherwise featureless storage space.

Her view was abruptly obstructed by what looked like a sharp prong, which then was jammed directly into her outstretched scope's lens, making Deunan flinch with psychosomatic pain at being jabbed in the eye'.

Soon she had a whole other reason for flinching. Her system was suddenly alive with high current on every exposed interior surface. Feeling the burn of the strong charge along her armor, Deunan cringed and tried to curl into herself, hoping that her harness wasn't actually conductive in its own right and that if she wasn't actually _touching_ the metal or electronics connected to the exo's outer skin that she'd survive the unexpected attack. Her helmet, she realized dizzily, was wired into her Guges' control panel, as it had to be able to transmit her mental commands to the control cortex. Sparks danced between the electrodes in her gloves, boots, and between her helmet and her scalp, burning and crawling along her skin like fire-ants as she fought to keep from biting her tongue with her sudden tremors.

It couldn't last forever, she told herself as she fought her rising panic. All she had to do was survive the second's worth of charge in the weapon, and she'd be ok. It was just sparks, not the lethal payload she was getting. If she jerked too far and touched the skin of her Guges? She'd might get zapped for real. Getting cooked in her suit wasn't the way she wanted to be found later, Deunan reminded herself as she grimly rode the attack out.

It was dark inside her suit when she got her brain working properly again.

Adrenaline helped Deunan to switch from limp and disoriented to shivering and ready to strike in the span of a breath. Someone, or something was hammering on the outside of her armor, trying to get in. The suit was dead, completely bricked, as far as she could tell. The scent of burnt electronics and her own sweat mixed to create a noxious atmosphere inside the suddenly very smokey, and terribly claustrophobic cabin of her armor. Deunan breathed shallow through her mouth as she tried to guess whether it was friend or foe hammering at her dead Guges. Foe, she resolved, knowing that a teammate would just activate the emergency overrides to get her out. Unless the overrides weren't working, and she was going to smother inside her damned armor, her subconscious provided, always cynical. Deunan shoved the unhelpful thought away, recognizing that she was shaking now from more than just adrenaline as she fought her usual reaction to being trapped someplace confined and dark. Now was not the time to freak out, she advised herself firmly. Now was the time to do something to save her goddamned neck before she was made mincemeat by a psycho cyborg with tacky triple-D breasts.

Come on, Deunan. She hissed to herself, detangling one arm at a time from her harness in order to free a gun from her hip holster, and then flipped the safety cover off her manual emergency release. It was a damned good thing she was small, she figured. One of her meatier teammates wouldn't have had a chance in hell of performing some of the cramped maneuvers she was attempting in order to save herown skin. So long as the hydraulics weren't busted... and she wasn't pinned down by something? The lever would trigger an explosive charge that would jettison the back plate of her exo with some serious force, both freeing her, and potentially smashing anyone standing too close by when the charges went off.

Deunan took a breath to steady her nerves, trying to guess where to aim once she was free of her cooked armor. Chances were she'd only get one shot. With her legs still tangled in the harness, she'd be a sitting duck if she missed and her enemy was able to knock the weapon from her hands, or shoot back.

There was nothing for it but to try it. Better to die fighting, she told herself, than huddled in the dark. Jamming her hand down on the release-button, she felt a burst of relief at the immediate 'bang' of explosives and the sharp hiss and draw of fresh air against the back of her neck. The armor opened just as designed, which was a blessing all in itself. Rearing back and out of her broken Guges, Deunan brought her gun up and fired at the fleeing shadow. Her prey-turned-hunter chose to retreat in the face of the unknown.

Deunan cursed, not sure whether it was a good or bad thing. The woman could reappear from anywhere, at any time. She reached down to wrestle with her straps, freeing herself as fast as she could. Someone took a pot shot at her from the roof with only one leg free. Deunan leaned back and returned fire, driving the cyborg back enough that she could untangle the last stubborn latch on her foot, hopping free of her suit. Ducking for cover behind a container she winced at the feel of the still-hot electronics around her face and hands, and paused for a second to peel off her gloves, and then her helmet. Her hair smelled scorched. Deunan hoped to hell she wouldn't have bald spots later.

Another exchange of shots, and she finally realized that they were both now exo-less. On the one hand, this meant her opponent was a lot more vulnerable than before. On the other? So was she. At least she was wearing field armor. That was a small miracle. Locking another clip into her gun, she dared a moment to pull her ear-piece free, wondering if it was just deactivated, or trashed like the rest of her electronics. It looked half melted. Now that she was free of it, her ear felt much the same. Deunan tested the burned skin on the side of her face carefully, glad to feel that she still _had_ an ear, but not wanting to see it in a mirror just the same.

Sure it was just surface damage, she groused to herself, but would Briareos see it that way? She suspected not. One more thing to chalk up to the crazy cyborg shooting at her. If she was going to get chewed out for getting hurt on this mission? She was determined to make sure the other woman would damned well bleed for it.

Sadly it seemed her opponent had the same idea, and was better equipped too. A grenade clattered to the pavement next to where she was hiding, forcing Deunan to vault over her no-longer-sheltering crates and sprint to the next likely place to dodge bullets. Someone caught her by the shoulder as she reached the corner of the building she was hoping to circle, slamming her hard into the sheet metal and concrete siding and leaving her to see stars.

Deunan fired blind as she tried to predict where her assailant likely stood, and heard more than saw the shot hit the woman in the thigh at near point-blank range. Her captor's cry of pain almost drown out a second loud bang. Deunan gasped at an exquisitely weird and painful sensation in her side made her look down at herself in dazed wonder.

She'd been shot.

Deunan blinked in wonder at the fact. Slowly tracking back the spreading blood across her armor, to the gun mere inches from her abdomen, to the hand holding the gun, she finally found the familiar face of the woman still holding her pinned to the wall.

Agara stared at her in furious wonder, seeming equally surprised at their shared predicament. Deunan blinked again at the wild-eyed amazon looming above her, head strangely silent for all that she recognized she was probably about to die. Hardly worth worrying about now, she mused. Hardly worth worrying about anything, really.

"You? Again?! What the hell! Where the hell do you keep _coming_ from? Who _are_ you? What does it take to kill you?!"

Deunan wanted to laugh at that. It was something, at least, wasn't it? She'd managed to injure, annoy, and perplex the enemy. If she had to die? At least she'd managed _that_ much. Grinning weakly up at her captor, she tasted blood. "More than you've got."

She raised her gun for a last stand, or tried to. But the cyborg was quicker still. Deunan saw stars as the pistol butt slammed into the side of her head. At least, she mused as she felt the world go blank, Agara couldn't go far on her bad leg... and as a perk, she wouldn't be conscious for the final shot.

Belatedly, one worry managed to slip into her dazed and drifting thoughts before she passed out. Briareos was going freak when he got the news.

* * *

BRIAREOS

"They're not here, Magus." Briareos complained softly on a direct line to his superior, daring to use the man's regular code-name instead of his number to emphasize his urgency. "We need to expand the sweep."

"Don't tell me my job." His captain snapped, but with no real heat in it.

Briareos bit back the urge to argue the remark, knowing the man was trying to be sympathetic - had been sympathetic to even authorize him to continue the search despite the fact he was undoubtedly emotionally compromised at the moment. They had two sisters out of three alive in custody. Killing the last one would hardly be _that_ bad, would it? In the silence of his thoughts Briareos acknowledged that he _would_ kill the woman if anything had happened to Deunan. As it was, he hung in a terrifying limbo. There was no trace of either woman, not from the air, or on the street. It was as if both exos had vanished completely.

Telling himself that the silence was normal, that it was merely that they'd gone out of range, helped a little. There was no way to turn off a tracker once it was embedded. The passive technology would respond to an electronic hail unless it was utterly smashed to bits. Even half-broken, their sensitive ESWAT equipment ought to be able to find it. It was just a matter of getting close enough, and it would be found. Likewise, Deunan's armor was hardly small, or common looking. It'd turn up eventually. It had to. It was a rare black-market fence that would dare touch something as 'hot' as a police-grade Guges, damaged or otherwise, and the ones who did? They were probably all in ESWAT pay as double agents anyway. So both parties would be found, eventually. It was just a question of would they be found soon enough?

Briareos guided his battered suit to fly higher, skirting the very edge of their assigned zone in order to sweep a little over the edges. There was nothing in the next three blocks that showed up as interesting on his sensors. Wherever his girl had run off to, it wasn't next-door. Listening in on the dead com channel, he willed it to activate, to give him something - anything- to work with.

"New grid's up. We're moving out." Magus' nag was enough to get his attention back on the task at hand. Sure enough, HQ had authorized a wider search pattern as they sought their prey. The ranged zone they were now assigned tailed along the waterfront, and over the shipping cranes. Briareos had a sudden paranoid fantasy of his girl trapped in a crate being loaded on one of the supertankers destined for the slave markets of Saudi Arabia, and told himself to stop imagining doomsday scenarios. Following silently behind Magus, he watched everything, everyone, cataloging faces and vehicle plate numbers for later on the off chance that it mattered, that anyone below had seen his girl.

A flicker, the barest breath of life on his personal com line brought him up short; an burst of static, then silence. Briareos paused mid air, turning his head quickly, trying to guess the source of the short-lived signal. It had been close, relatively speaking, but not close enough for data. "Magus. I heard something."

"HQ to all teams. We have intermittent contact with 109's exo. Stand by for approximate location. All units prepare for new search grid." Briareos blinked to hear that her suit radio had chosen the same moment to come to life, however weakly. It implied that the act was deliberate, his girl attempting to break her silence to share some bit of news perhaps, or try and call in the cavalry.

The satellites would have a better chance of triangulating on her suit radio than he would on just their comlink alone. Briareos slid several meters to the east as he guessed what direction she was in. The link had been alive, for a moment. It wasn't just a desperate delusion. But why hadn't she left the connection active? That her suit's equipment was flaking out, was a given but her earpiece ought to have had plenty of battery life left in it. Techno-novice that she was, she was still more than savvy enough to know a trace could be done on the uplink band alone, even without data. Why hadn't she left the link open?

"Likely origin point is west of current grid, towards the city center. We've lost contact again. Proceed to zones shown and recommence search." HQ announced abruptly, as all suits received an updated map. "Accuracy is only 400 meters, proceed with caution."

Magus was on the move, and Briareos forbid himself from piling on speed to duck ahead of the man. It could be a trap, he reminded himself. Maybe she d gone silent again because she d had no choice? It wouldn't do to make things worse for her. Skirting over the disturbingly identical looking rows of buildings back near the 'city side' of the harbor he searched with every sensor at his disposal. He split off from his captain to do a closer sweep as they approached the target zone, using infrared to peer through the boring looking roof-plates of the structures to confirm there was nothing remarkable inside. He caught glimpses of 107 and 96 on the next street, moving parallel to him, methodically checking for enemy and friend alike. The preoccupied quiet of the whole team was just as anxiety inducing as the dead radio in Deunan's suit.

In the distance, there were the brief pops of small arms fire, followed by a louder bang that nearly masked two more shots. Briareos turned on instinct and started to move, knowing the others would hear the same as he had thanks to their suit's augmentation. Guns weren't so common in Olympus that it was likely that there were two people in the vicinity shooting at one another who weren't the pair of women they were hunting for.

Magus was giving orders, something to do with deployment and approaches. Briareos listened with a fraction of his attention as he tried to out-guess Gaia as to the exact location of the fight in progress. It took precious seconds for the supercomputers guiding the satellites overhead to pinpoint the source of the blast.

HQ chirped helpfully as they marked the intersection in question. "Small explosive, probably RPG or other handheld ordinance. Proceed with caution. Attempt to contain civilian interaction until cordons can be established."

"If we wait for a cordon they'll be gone again." Briareos growled to Magus as they flew side by side between tightly packed warehouses.

"Let's just worry about finding them first, then figure out how to contain them." His captain remarked dryly. "As it is, I'm seriously considering putting a cat-bell on your girlfriend so that when this inevitably happens _again_ on an op, we can find her that way, should all else fail."

There were people shouting, and running, as they approached the source of the recent conflict. Not many, thankfully, and none injured, from what Briareos could see. He noted absently that a panicked truck driver nearly sideswiped 120 and 96 as they approached from a cross street. The large dump truck cornered wildly as the dock worker sought to escape the sudden attack, shedding a few trash bags and assorted litter as it did. His teammate settled back on the street with a rude gesture towards the retreating vehicle, no worse for the wear.

Briareos focused his attention again on the area at hand and found it hard to miss the lingering hot-spot from the explosion. There was an equally warm, armor-sized lump next to the blast zone, and another suspicious looking lump within the building itself. "I'm the most durable. I'll go first." He offered grimly.

Eyes in the sky are doing the sweep. Magus countered, holding him back for the necessary seconds for the report to come in.

"No movement. No organics." The ever unhelpful voice from the command truck reported what Briareos had already guessed from the quiet. "Proceed with caution."

"113, interior surveillance with me. 96 you coordinate folks on the street..." Briareos was moving as soon as Magus took a breath. Shouldering open the side door of the building to pan his gun across the tightly packed space within. Boxes, more boxes, aisle after aisle of shelves, but near the far end of the building an open office sort of space held an unsurprising heap of red armor. He cursed his luck knowing that it was probably fifty-fifty which of the two suits he d find.

"113 here. Red suit found. Empty. Looks to have been stepped out of. No evidence of significant interior damage. Suspect is now on foot." He turned the armored chest plating over in his hands, confirming the bad news he suspected. "The tracker is still here. I think she s given us the slip."

Behind him, Magus sighed in audible annoyance.

"This is 120 to 96! I've found 109's exo-suit... Also empty!"

"Easy." Magus' voice cut across Briareos radio when he might have shot a hole in the building to save valuable seconds in getting to where his teammate was broadcasting. "Use your head, man."

"I know." He feigned professionalism he wasn't feeling and used the door instead.

It took precious seconds to arrive at the scene, listening to the other officers as they expanded their perimeter to discover the remains of a grenade casing, and what appeared to be pieces of Deunan's helmet. Briareos felt his AI actively fighting with him over his adrenaline levels, trying to keep his heart from racing out of his chest. He was torn between gratitude towards the intrusive software and annoyance that even if he wanted to, he wasn't _able_ to drive himself into a frenzy of worry and fear, his damned artificial cortex wouldn't let him.

"Where is she?" He asked his commander on their private line, "She has to be here..."

"Where are _either_ of them?" Magus asked rhetorically. "Two suits, no bodies. That's weird."

"Jeezus, look at this damage." 96 was scanning Deunan's abandoned armor through a waldo mounted in his suit, marveling aloud at the report he was seeing. It was obvious, even to a casual observer, that the Guges was trashed in more than just the usual way. It was still smoking in places, silently testifying as to the abuse it had suffered. Briareos would have panicked more, except that it was clear that the release hatch had blown, not just been lifted off. That meant that the occupant had to have been alive to trigger it from the inside. Deunan had made it _out_ of the damned suit. It'd probably been only minutes ago. He turned around in a circle, considering her options. Where she'd gone after was anyone's guess.

"Uh. We've got fresh blood here." 107 seemed hesitant to share his discovery. Briareos silently trailed after Magus, slowly becoming numb to further bad news as it piled on, one atop the next. The curly haired officer gestured that the younger man might unsuit long enough to do a closer investigation while they provided cover.

Using a flashlight to combat the gloom 107 studied the dark mark on the wall. He then carefully fished what looked like a flattened bullet out of a hole in the center of the bloody patch of concrete; giving Magus a significant look before dropping it in an evidence bag.

"21 to HQ, we're going to need a forensics team for biological sample..." Looking at another suspicious stain on the ground, Magus pointed at it silently in a bid to get 120 to stop standing in it. "And possibly some hydraulic fluid, it looks like a match to what we scraped off the pavement back in the square. What the ETA on a retrieval crew? I want to know what's in 109's blackbox ASAP."

"Found a glove." 96 remarked quietly at Briareos' shoulder, compelling him to turn and look. "Looks like something 109 might wear...? Also, this?"

Seeing a familiar looking broken earpiece in the palm of his teammate's Guges hand, Briareos hissed in pained wonder. "Yeah. Yeah, those are hers."

"Right." 96 was kind enough to not ask further questions, merely tucking the evidence away someplace with quiet economy.

They were all scanning for heat signatures now. Fanning out with grim determination to find something, anything else to lead them in the right direction. It was all well and good to say Deunan was probably fine, that she was lucky enough to survive this - to survive anything - but the bloody splatter on the side of the building was a nightmare in the making. Briareos forced his thoughts away from it and concentrated on following the trail of hydraulic fluid instead. If he could just find one, he told himself, he'd probably find the other.


	19. Chapter 19

**Promethean Blood - ch 19 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

The fact that she was alive, came to Deunan with a feeling of fatal resignation. Being alive meant she had to do something about her situation.

Deunan blinked and slowly assessed her status: Hurt. And her location: Someplace dark and uncomfortable, that smelled strongly of rotting produce. A grinding rumble around her and steady jarring of her resting-place hinted at movement. Wherever she was, she was in-transit. Listening carefully, she couldn't guess more than her instincts had already told her. She was in some kind of truck, a smelly one, heading god-knew where. All in all? Not good.

She couldn't be certain she could hear anything other than the engine. Between that, and the rushing of her blood in her ears she was functionally deaf to anything that might help her identify her location. Still, it was either do something, or lay around like an idiot while she was swept off. Groaning softly, Deunan mustered her strength and tried to move, shifting arms and legs from where she lay sprawled, feeling the lumpy texture of plastic on all sides.

It took a minute more of pained squirming to realize just where she probably was. Deunan closed her eyes and swore to herself. She was in a garbage truck? That bitch, Agara, had gone and thrown her 'body' in the trash, and then seen to it that she'd gotten picked up ? Of all the nasty things to do!

Clearly, this was revenge for her ploy in capturing Enyo, she mused. Somehow the cyborg-bitch had gotten word of her trick back at the nightclub and was paying her back with interest. Had she actually been dead, and then hauled off to one of the city's many incinerators? The team might never find her body, definitely not in time to help her, at any rate. Deunan let her rising fury work against her pain, giving her energy to shift some of the bags around her in order to find her way to the top of the pile. She felt light headed by the time she was done, obliged to lay still and pant against the trash bags as she tried to plan her next move.

She should probably do something to stop the bleeding, the little voice inside her head offered, helpfully. It sounded like Briareos, as it often did. Smart, ever-sensible, Briareos to the rescue, she huffed with tired laughter at herself. Even when he wasn't around, he was still able to nag her to do the right thing thanks to her stupid subconscious.

She had a combat first-aid kit in the micro-pack attached to her left thigh, she remembered slowly. Moving at half speed, Deunan fumbled blindly in the darkness of her hiding place to retrieve the necessary skin patch, loosening her chest plate and pulling up her torn shirt beneath to shakily press the adhesive bandage against her side. Despite how it felt, the wound wasn't actually that big. Deunan blinked woozily as she applied pressure, waiting for the gel to set and hold the bandage to her skin. The second patch went on her back, her clumsy fingers finding another hole to match the first where the bullet had made its escape. That was a good thing, right? She tried to tell herself, choking down the nausea. Two holes was better than the bullet still being inside her, wasn't it? She couldn't honestly remember enough of her triage training to recall one way or the other. Moving mechanically, she pulled her shirt back down and re-buckled the plate to her side to support her damaged chest. Once again it was time to lay still and do nothing for a bit. She waited for further inspiration to strike.

Pain killers were in the first aid kit too. She nodded to herself at the belated but practical suggestion from her tired brain. She could really use a shot of something right now. Anything. She almost fumbled the capsule as she lifted it to her mouth, but somehow she got the thing under her tongue, and returned to laying still for a bit, enjoying the feeling of the drug as it soothed the worst of the shaking from her limbs. Better living through chemistry, Deunan marveled, feeling more like herself with every moment she let the medicine work through her body. Sure, she was shot, scorched, and probably concussed. But she wasn't dead And she wasn't crippled... at least not yet. If she did this right, she might actually survive.

The truck ground to an abrupt halt, making her grateful for the padding provided by the bailed garbage around her. They'd arrived already? She recognized her sudden peril. It was time to go. Still, there was no immediate tilting to herald that she was about to get dumped into the automated processing plant. Deunan offered a quick prayer that the operator was probably going to fill out paperwork first or something, and scrambled to find first the side of the truck, and then feel her way blindly towards the back. Poking her head free of the heap into the open air was even better than being buoyed to the surface of the ocean after the wreck. She gasped aloud at the chance to breathe without choking on the smell, hooking her elbows over the side and pulling herself up out of the heap to freedom.

Sitting atop the truck, she found she was a long way off the ground. Deunan marveled to see she was not at a recycling center, but rather parked haphazardly at the edge of a tenement neighborhood. She stared over her shoulder to try and get her bearings. The harbor was nowhere to be seen, instead she was parked next to the underside of one of the city's major highways, the flow of traffic far above on the elevated decks was a steady hum.

Somehow the day had gone and slipped away in all her running around and chasing crooks. Deunan gingerly slithered down the side of the vehicle, regretting her impulse to rescue herself almost as soon as she tried. Once on the ground, she took stock, pleased that she still had a pistol on her that Agara hadn't found, or thought to look for. The bandage was containing the bleeding, and the drugs were containing the dizziness. Deunan took a few cautious steps and gained confidence that she wouldn't fall over without some warning. Next objective, she decided, was to find a radio, or a phone, or better yet, another cop. Sweeping the last large gobs of grime from her armor, she couldn't do much for the bloodstains or burn marks, but if someone didn't look too close she wasn't a complete horror show. Deunan moved to explore the contents of the truck's cab.

There was a good sized puddle on the floor of the drivers side, not blood, but somehow familiar just the same. Deunan stared at it, perplexed a moment before looking down at the street. A trail of more of the oily looking fluid went from the truck down one of the alleyways nearby. Hydraulic fluid, her brain belatedly reminded her. She'd shot Agara's leg, hadn't she? The woman had been leaking - was still leaking. The trail of drips was fresh. She forced herself to stare hard at it, goading her taxed brain to trundle along to its conclusion. Agara must Have been driving. Agara must have have limped away on her damaged leg. How long ago? Not long, from the look of it.

Deunan rubbed gingerly at her side, acknowledging that she had to have woken up relatively quickly, or even with her nanites to help with clotting, she'd have bled out in the dumpster. So what did this mean?

Deunan looked back at the truck and marveled at the idea that somehow the cyborg-terrorist had broken away from pursuit by stealing a garbage truck. Loading her in the back was she supposed to have been some sort of sick souvenir? Or was it just an act of coincidence? There was no way to know without asking. Deunan thumbed the safety off her gun, resolved that so long as she was upright, and mobile, she might as well see her hunt through to the end. Probably Agara thought she was dead by now. She'd have the element of surprise on her side.

She started forward, tentative at the thought of strolling, or rather limping, into the mostly immigrant, and not especially police-friendly zone with nothing but her sidearm, and some tattered but still official looking armor. It was late afternoon however, and few folks were out and about just yet. The long shadows between the closely packed buildings help to keep her looking nondescript. She figured if she kept her head down and didn't bother anyone, she might be able to slink in without ruffling feathers. Sneaking out again? Well that would be trickier, perhaps, but that was what friends were for, wasn't it?

Deunan hesitated, torn between following her trail and finding some way to to call in her location. People back at HQ had to be flipping out by now; a suspect at loose; her not reporting status. It was the right thing to do, the responsible thing. Again she cursed at the fact that her subconscious had taken on a decidedly Briareos-like tone. Still, she couldn't deny that it was a good idea. Hauling herself up into the driver's seat, she found the key still in the ignition, and with a click, engaged the electrics enough to power the radio. It took a few fumbles to figure out how to set the damned thing's frequency to a police band. All she could hear was a loud hiss, the other traffic was undoubtedly encrypted to the nth degree. Was there even anyone listening for a normal call on the line? Or would she just get filtered out as noise? Funny how she'd never thought about it before. Back in LA there d always been a human dispatcher listening just for this reason, but there was no way to know if Olympus operated the same way.

"This this is Officer 109 Olympus ESWAT, is anyone able to receive me? Officer in distress. Please respond."

"Warning. This is a restricted frequency. You broadcasting from an unrecognized transmitter and are in violation of federal communication law. Please change your band, or cease broadcast immediately."

Deunan swore loudly at the mechanically politeness of the voice that responded. It was a computer. "No wait, listen. Officer in distress. Don t you have some kind of override code? For emergencies? This is an emergency. I need to speak to a dispatcher!"

"Warning. This is a restricted frequency. Failure to comply with request to cease broadcasting on this channel will result in criminal charges."

"Fine! Charge me! Just send someone down here to pick me up!" Deunan cried in frustration. "Better yet, get someone to yell at me right now!"

"Warning. This is a-"

"Son of a bitch!" Deunan jammed the handset back into its holder giving it up as a dead end.

The question was, now what? She hopped out of the truck and took a few steps down the street only to have inspiration strike again in the form of an on-coming car. Deunan paused in the middle of crossing the road, much to the chagrin of the driver of the vehicle obliged to slam on his breaks or hit her dead on.

"Hey. Mister. Hold up a second?" She shielded her eyes from the horizontal sunlight sneaking between the highway pylons and admired the admittedly expensive-looking car.

"Get out of the road you dumb broad! What is the matter with you!" Its driver was naturally a little upset that she'd nearly scuffed his paint with her face.

"Mister, I need a favor."

"Jeez you refugees are all the same... Look, I don't give money to bums, alright? Get a job! The welfare office is open every damn day, I pay taxes enough for it! Have some goddamned self-respect and get off the drugs, whichever ones you're on, and make something of yourself already!"

Deunan blinked at the rant, not that she hadn't heard politer versions of same speech before in various circles, but never aimed specifically at her. Looking over her shoulder to where the tenements loomed around her, and then down at her scuffed and messy appearance, she belatedly understood. The man in the flash sunglasses thought she was a local? It was kind of comical in a way. When she'd first come in out of the badlands she'd probably looked just like any other refugee, unwashed, tattered, twitchy. The only thing that had kept her and Briareos out of a neighborhood just like this one was that they'd come through the war with a 'valued skill set', in addition to the rags on their backs. She appreciated that not everyone could be so lucky. Still, she hardly had the time, nor the energy, to argue politics with some random dickhead in the road. Lifting her gun, she almost smiled at how quickly the look the driver gave her changed from disgusted to terrified.

"Your phone, pretty boy. Give it to me. Now."

"What?"

"Your phone." Deunan enunciated clearly. "I need it."

"Please, take anything you want... just don't shoot me!"

"Don't tempt me." She sighed, keeping him under her gun as she crossed around to the passenger side of the flashy roadster, in case he got the dumb idea of trying to run her over as he peeled away. Reaching through the window, she pulled his personal communicator from its charging port and tucked it in her pocket. On a whim she claimed the coat he'd sloppily piled on the seat too. Pulling it on, she felt better for the dark cloth concealing her various painted emblems and numbers. "Now... get lost. It isn't safe to drive a fancy car like that around this area. Someone might think you're up to no good."

"Uh. Yeah." That was, of course, exactly what he was up to, cruising the immigrant blocks, Deunan belatedly realized. He was probably selling drugs, or buying prostitutes.

She smirked to herself at her previous naivete. Still, a phone was a phone, and if he was some sort of junior crime boss, no doubt the analysts would love getting a copy of his contact list later. "I'll see that someone returns your phone when I'm done with it, mister. See ya around."

Retreating well out of his way, Deunan put her gun back in its hidden holster in her leg armor and examined her new communicator as he pulled away with a curse. He'd secured it with a pass code, she realized stupidly. Luckily a person didn't need a fancy pin number to unlock a call to an emergency hotline, so that was what she did.

"Please state the nature of your emergency?" Deunan slouched against the wall of a closed up mechanic's shop and grinned at the absurdity of having to go through civilian channels to talk to her own team.

"Officer in distress. I need to be connected through to ESWAT dispatch immediately, please."

"Uh. I'm sorry, could you say again? Are you trying to call in an emergency?" The dispatcher's confusion was audible.

"Yeah." Deunan pinched the bridge of her nose as she gathered her thoughts. "Look, it's complicated. I'm trying to reach ESWAT, I'm on a borrowed phone. Just enter in my id codes in the system, and it'll tell you where to transfer me, ok?"

"You can't just call in a SWAT team, honey, you have to tell me your emergency first, then I connect you through to the police... then they decide when to call in-"

"I don't want to talk to the police. And I don't have an emergency, exactly..." Deunan tried to cut the well meaning man off before he could finish his complaint. "Look, my name is Knute. I work on the 20th floor, badge id 109. I am an officer in distress, ok? I'm _one of you_, look me up in the damned system. Employee ID, shit I don't know, try 030341 or something like that. I need to speak to someone on the ESWAT dispatch boards, or failing that, the officer of the watch, or Officer Briareos Hecatonchires, whoever you can get a hold of. It's really important."

"We're not a call answering service, ma'am, if you're trying to reach a specific person within the police department you'll have to call in through the main switchboard. I'm not authorized to make transfers-"

"God damn you. Will you just listen to me?" She pressed her hand to her face. "Look. I _can't_ call any number other than yours, ok? This isn't my phone. You have to connect me, or at least pass a message. Tell them that Knute, 109, has traced a terrorist to - Where am I?... Looks like, 116 Tyler St., Harborside - and is urgently requesting backup. Also... an EMT. I think I need one of those too."

"Is someone hurt? What terrorist?"

"Me. I got shot. I'm ok though. Just... think I need a paramedic or something... to check it." Deunan admitted, feeling grey and weak once the initial glow of the drugs was fading.

"Wait, why didn't you say you were shot?! Where is the wound? Is it elevated? I'll dispatch a police cruiser and paramedic to the scene immediately, please stand by."

"No! Not a police car. The SWAT team. ESWAT team!" She tried to correct him. "They need to get down here, pronto, and help me... Deunan shook her head at how she wasn't getting through to the person on the other end of the line. At the rate she was going it would be next week before Lance got her message. Look, just let me speak to your supervisor?"

"Ma'am, why don't we just start with the police, huh? Then they can appraise the situation and..."

"I _am_ the police!" Deunan muffled herself belatedly, wincing at how her voice carried with the concrete all around her. "Put me through to a police dispatcher and I can explain it to them, ok?"

"I highly doubt that the police would be calling into emergency services on an unregistered number..." Her not-so-helpful first responder seemed determined to thwart her. Did she really sound that much like a crazy crank calling in about UFO's? Deunan had to smile at the stupidity, she probably did. It didn't mean the dispatcher wasn't on her shit-list however, when this was all done.

Deunan couldn't help but let a little of her frustration get into her voice. "God save me from morons... look this is a code 5, ok? I am an honest to god policewoman calling in on a civilian line, due to an equipment malfunction. I am requesting you to officially transfer me to a police dispatcher so that I can do my god damned job!"

A police dispatcher wasn't what she needed at all, she figured, but odds were they'd be less mutton headed than the joker on the phone with her currently.

"Certainly ma'am but I need to just ask your a few questions first..."

"Oh for the love of-" Deunan hung up, and crammed the phone in her pocket. If this was the help she got from her 'team' it was no wonder she preferred to go it alone, she grumbled to herself. She should have gotten the security code off of the guy when she took his phone, she kicked herself for the failure. Then she could have just called Briareos, or anyone else whose number she happened to remember, instead of trying to argue with emergency services.

What were her choices, honestly? Try to find another phone? Call back and wait for the police cruiser to arrive in the hope that she could make _them_ understand?

Her feet pulled her along seemingly with a mind of their own. Following the smears on the pavement lead her in a building and around the side, into a particularly seedy, but thankfully empty alleyway. Stacked with rubbish and recycling, it was little better than where she'd woken up. It was hard to see what, if anything Agara had wanted with the place.

Deunan nudged at the various stacks and bales with her foot until she found what she didn't know she was looking for. An open manhole cover was revealed by shifting a pile of cardboard, leading down into the service tunnels below.

Tunnels again, huh? She wished she'd thought to tuck a flashlight in her pocket when dressing for the mission. Still, there was nothing for it but to to go and see what was down there.

Feeling the guilty weight of the phone in her pocket, she figured it was worth one more try. Any backup was better than no backup.

"Please state the nature of your emergency?"

At least it was a different voice this time. "This is officer Knute, calling from 116 Tyler, Harborside on a code-5. A police officer's been shot while in hot pursuit of a rogue cyborg terrorist. Requesting any support you can send to the alleyway adjacent to the building. Look for an open manhole. She's at the bottom. The suspect is still at large and should be considered armed and extremely dangerous."

"Uh. Yes ma'am. Can you confirm your badge ID?"

"109 - Knute, special weapons and tactics." Deunan marveled that her second attempt seemed to be working. Sometimes it paid to stick to the script, even when it required stretching the truth.

"What is the status of the wounded officer?"

"Stable, but urgently in need of backup. The suspect is a female combat-grade cyborg and has put up heavy resistance to capture. It s very likely she will attempt further armed criminal action in the next 12 hours."

"I'm dispatching cars now, officer. If you can stay on the line I'll connect you through to the police-" Deunan wasn't interested in explaining herself again to a new person. Either help would come, or it wouldn't. Either way, she'd tried. They'd practically have to send someone, she figured, to at least investigate her claims about an armed cyborg on the loose and a downed officer. Hopefully that would set off enough alarm bells that the call would escalate quickly up to someone who had brains enough to either recognize her name, or at least pass the info along to ESWAT for confirmation.

Mustering her strength, she set her feet on the top rung of the ladder, and slowly, but carefully stepped down into the darkness below the street.

* * *

BRIAREOS

The drips led nowhere. Nowhere that mattered, at any rate. Barely a building further down the street, they guided Briareos through an open door and into what looked like a mechanic's shop. He turned around to fully understand what he was seeing. The staff were all fled, there was no evidence of struggle. The drips crossed through the office area, out into the garage, and then disappeared. He stared at the empty space where a vehicle being serviced would usually be parked, thoughts moving faster than he could articulate. Suddenly it all made sense.

"Magus. Suspect has stolen a vehicle. She was probably just leaving the scene when we arrived."

"HQ, we need data on all vehicles seen leaving the area on or prior to arrival." Magus was as quick on the uptake as usual, expanding on his orders and issuing requests for surveillance data from local traffic drones.

A stale tang in the air caused Briareos to pause again. Something about the scent triggered a memory from moments before, the garbage truck careening past 120, nearly tagging him with its urgent escape from the area. The driver had been panicked - just not for the reason he'd supposed. His AI proved itself invaluable once again, allowing him photo-perfect recall of the vehicle's id plates from when it roared past. "113 to HQ, requesting a vehicle trace. Helio Junk Removal, transit tag 117FD2Q-09JL. It was heading towards the highway 8 minutes ago, blue cab, black body. Priority search!"

Running out into the street, he kicked off the asphalt and into the air, gaining altitude in the vain hope that he could still catch a glimpse. It was no good, the truck was long gone.

"The dump truck?!" 96 was the first to clue in to his frantic request. "Oh christ, it went right past us! Was that 109?"

"She would have stopped. We should have gotten a god damned cordon." Magus growled, also surveying the area from the air. "Which way did it go, 113 We'll see if we can get lucky while waiting for Gaia's search."

"Traffic cameras confirm it entered the highway going west-bound at K Street." Lance interrupted anything further the man would have said, taking over the normal operator's channel to issue orders directly. "I want units stationed at every exit ramp between K and city center. 21, you and your team keep searching the area for evidence of 109's whereabouts."

Magus turned to Briareos, seeming to sense his silent frustration. "With all due respect, sir, we're strongly of the mind that where the one went, the other went too You did tell her to stick like a burr afterall. And it goes without saying that 109 is too stubborn for her own good."

"Understood." Lance sighed. "Still, no sense running off with no destination. Stand by for coordinates. We'll transmit them as soon as we have them."

* * *

DEUNAN

Being stuck in dark, cramped, shitholes was becoming an unpleasant theme for her week, Deunan realized after a few minutes of creeping along the musty passage in hopes of tracking down her target. Next practice drill she was assigned to that required her getting crammed into a coat closet, or air-duct, or cargo hold, or drain pipe, or any of that nonsense? She was going to flat out refuse. And if Magus or anyone else wanted to call her on it? She'd sic her damned neurotic boyfriend on them!

At least the tunnel was large enough to stand up in. Deunan paused a moment to dig the toe of her boot into the layered grime on the floor, scratching a crude arrow in the direction she'd been walking. The change in color from filth to concrete was profound enough that even with the minimal light coming in from the grates above, she was confident she'd be able to find her way out again. Someone following her with a proper flashlight would have an even easier time.

The trail of leaked fluid from the cyborg she was stalking was a help too. The drip had tapered off considerably the deeper into the tunnel she'd gone, but the oily smears were still apparent for someone if they looked. Agara's central reservoir was getting depleted, Deunan mused at the cyborg's predicament. Either that or she'd found something to tourniquet herself with.

If it was the latter, she could still be considered a serious threat. If it was the former? The terrorist would be nearly as weak as a kitten by now, without the vital fluid to provide her artificial muscles any sort of flex . Deunan cynically hoped the woman had dripped dry. It would be a far easier capture if that was the case. Another reason why her boyfriend was superior by design, she figured, his suit housed four separate reservoirs, one for each limb, that way should a leak start in one portion of his body, it wouldn't incapacitate him entirely.

Shuffling softly along the corridor, Deunan heard her target fumbling ahead at last. A beam of light from around a corner hinted that the woman had retreated to someplace with at least minimal trappings of civilization in order to lick her wounds. Deunan peered around the corner carefully, hardly daring to breathe for fear of giving herself away. Luck was on her side. Agara sat with her back to the hall, bent over her leg and cursing steadily as she sought to repair the torn faux-flesh panel and mechanisms beneath it. The hole in her thigh was impressive. Deunan had to feel a little smug at the damage she'd caused. There'd be no quick-patch-kit capable of plugging _that_ for a convenient getaway. Probably Agara would need to seek a specialist, and have the leg replaced all together. ESWAT had some excellent cyberneticists on retainer, she knew from experience. She promised herself to _not_ introduce the woman to any of them when she brought the terrorist in under arrest.

Simply shooting the woman in the back of the head was sorely tempting, but Deunan wasn't sure her hands were steady enough to pull the shot off on the first try. Agara would surely notice should she need to take a second shot after the first went wide. The RPG launcher leaning casually against the wall near where the woman was sitting looked far more tempting. It would do enough damage on impact that even if her aim was a bit off, the splash damage would be sufficient to ensure her target went down in a permanent way. But how to get to it without being caught?

Deunan watched and waited, not above a little patience when so near her goal. Her side was starting to ache terribly, the emergency pain medication wearing off slowly but surely. There wouldn't be time for a second attempt, whatever she tried. Either she'd be clever about it, or she was better off quietly dragging herself back to the alley and the hope that someone more able would show up before Agara got clean away.

The cyborg woman got up with a pained noise, limping exaggeratedly as she struggled with both injury and low fluid-pressure levels in her artificial body. Deunan dared peer further around the corner to watch her, noting the terrorist was rummaging around in a closet without any awareness that she was being observed. Looking back at the rocket launcher, Deunan figured she might as well, and tiptoed across the room to claim the weapon for herself. Loading the lethal canister rocket was just a matter of pressing the conveniently half-prepped shell down into the firing pins and flipping off the over-sized safety. Deunan hoisted the large weapon onto her shoulder and turned to face the closet, vaguely pleased with the idea of blasting the unsuspecting woman to bits for the day she'd had.

Agara stood stunned in the doorway, staring at her with an expression of horrified amazement, a box of various tools and cybernetic panels in her hands. "You? Alive?"

"Aw, hell." Deunan pulled the trigger on reflex. Aiming was pointless, by the time she did, the woman would undoubtedly dodge, or kill her, or both. As it was, Agara still tried to outrun the rocket. Throwing her armload in one direction while diving backwards into the relative shelter of her store room, the cyborg reacted as best she could, lamed as she was.

Deunan also tried to run, though she did about as poor a job of it as the woman she was trying to kill. The idea that maybe it was a really bad plan to set off a rocket in a cramped basement hiding-hole? Only occurred to her after the damn thing had launched. She'd had a tentative goal of flattening herself into the corner of the room to shield herself from the inevitable debris before the explosion. She only made it about half the distance before she was _propelled_ into the corner by the ensuing blast, nearly knocking herself silly in the process.

Deunan blinked against dust, and dizziness as she marveled once again at the knowledge that she was alive. That had not been one of her smarter moments, she scolded herself, rolling her shoulders and feeling how scorched they were beneath her armor. Turning and putting her back to the wall, she coughed and tried to figure out what remained of her target. Killing the woman was the goal, but she'd settle for incapacitating the cyborg otherwise.

The rocket had clearly flown wide. Instead of blasting into the depths of closet, and obliterating any terrorists within, it had apparently tilted up at the last minute, impacting with the ceiling just beyond the door frame. This, in turn, had brought down a lot of debris into the tiny room, including some rather heavy - and important looking - pipes. Deunan winced at the thought of the potential for damage to the civilian dwellings above. Sure the tenements were shitty, but likely she'd just shot a rocket into somebody's home. Or at least into their foundation. That would suck.

Still, the ceiling seemed relatively stable, for all the damage done to it. Once the dust cleared a bit, Deunan was confident that it didn't _look_ about to collapse from the damage. Even better, she found that tangled between the fallen girders, concrete blocks, and broken plumbing, Agara was pinned and struggling weakly against the weight of the crap piled on top of her, still very much alive.

"You've got to be kidding me." Deunan stated flatly, gaining a glare of fury from the half buried woman for her efforts.

"You crazy bitch! You could have killed me! When I get out of here-"

"You're not going anywhere without the help of a demolition crew." Deunan pointed out the obvious, noting even as the cyborg did, that the woman's legs were likely crushed flat by the fallen pipes. They stared at each other for another long moment. Agara because she was too immobilized to look away, and Deunan because she was too tired to move.

"Got a phone?" Deunan felt obliged to ask after the silence drew out from awkward to darkly funny. "I'll see if I can tell em to bring an arc-cutter when they come to get you. That ought to speed things up a little."

As Agara's answer was both obscene and unhelpful, Deunan resolved to go check the street on the vague hope that the cavalry had finally arrived.


	20. Chapter 20

**Promethean Blood - ch 20 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

* * *

DEUNAN

The alley was still unhelpfully empty when she finally succeeded in climbing the ladder back to street-level. Deunan sighed in defeated amusement before pulling her phone out of her pocket again. Maybe the cavalry got lost. Maybe they never got sent. Either way, she was starting to think that an EMT was a really good idea. Her hands were shaking almost too much to dial as she punched in the requisite emergency digits. Propping her elbows against the ground helped. She stood a few rungs down on the ladder and leaned along the edge of the manhole, watching as the world went by just beyond the edge of her little alley. Nobody noticed her. People were too busy shuffling off to home, or work, or wherever they were heading. It was a little surreal to watch them go by from her unlikely hiding place waiting for her call to connect.

"Is this Officer 109?" The voice on the other end of the line skipped the standard greeting in favor of cutting to the chase. "What is your condition?"

"This is 109. I'm still looking for that ambulance, honestly. I've detained the suspect-"

"Officers are enroute, ETA is 2 minutes. I'll connect you now with ESWAT OIC, please stay on the line!"

"Ok-" Deunan blinked at the idea that help was actually coming at last.

"109 what's your status?!" Magus voice was both unexpected and energizing on the line. "Jesus woman you had us all scared shitless!"

Deunan grinned tasting concrete dust this time in addition to blood. "Hey there. I've got a present for you, 21. All gift-wrapped and everything... Maybe wrapped too well, actually. Do you have a plasma cutter handy? You may need one. Where the hell are you guys?"

"Coming in hot. Stay on the line this time, will ya? This area's a rabbit warren, so we're keying off of you. Where's Agara? They say you're hurt? How bad? Your partner's all but busting a gasket over here."

"This phone's not rated for group-chat. So he'll just have to wait." Deunan joked weakly, glad to be talking with her captain and not her flustered partner. Not that she wasn't glad to hear he too wanted to come to her rescue, but he was over-sized for the current task. Slouching further against the filthy concrete she could feel the stress and terror of the past hour fading with the chance to talk to someone friendly. "Tell him not to bother racing over, I'm fine. There's not much good he'll do here, he won't fit. Get Bradly and the demolition team to come and bring a cutter. 120 would be of more use than the rest of you, honestly. He's the scrawniest-"

The thing about watching the world go by when in Olympus, was that sooner or later - so the story went - you'd see someone you knew.

Deunan's mouth went dry as a particularly squarish-shaped man with a decidedly unstylish-haircut strolled by on the opposite side of the street. The pale suit was rumpled but of good material. His nose might have been described generously as hawkish, but in reality tended towards beaky. The man's hair was even more unfortunate than his face, honestly, the thick blond locks shaped in what could only be called a bowl-cut, which did nothing to enhance his other over-sized and blunt features. He looked totally out of place in the slum, more like a guy on the way to a business meeting than someone who belonged amidst the rundown tenements. Still, he walked by as if he owned the place, a flash of pale cloth and arrogance amidst the poverty around him.

She hadn't seen him for a year. Even then, it had been fleeting, just a bunch of surveillance photos and one wild motorcycle chase through the night-time streets of Olympus. But Deunan never forgot a face, especially not the face of a guy who'd made a fool of her. She'd had _dreams_ about catching him since, of how good it would feel to finally get her hands on him at last.

And now he was _here_? She wanted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.

"109?" Magus worried voice jarred her out of her temporary paralysis. "What were you saying?"

"B-Bowl-cut-guy." She stuttered, caught between wanting to give chase and the realization that her body was reacting badly, very badly, to her recent loss of blood and fading painkillers. "Magus. It's the fucking Bowl-Cut Guy! H-He's _here_! I've gotta-"

Deunan set the phone down, determined to get out of the manhole and follow him, at least a little, to see which way he went. Planting both hands on the concrete she pushed down in preparation for climbing the last two rungs when her strength simply gave out. Instead of pushing up and out, she found herself slipping backwards instead. A weak burst of self-preservation allowed her grab for the ladder as she started to fall, catching herself, barely on the way down. Her grip wasn't good enough to stick it, but it was enough to stall some of her momentum, at the cost of half wrenching her arm out of its socket. Instead of breaking her neck hitting the floor below, she only felt like she had. Blinking up at the now distant manhole above her, Deunan decided that trying to get up again was just too much effort. Too dazed with the repeated knocks to the head to even remember properly what it was that she'd been trying to do in the first place, she closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.

* * *

BRIAREOS

Watching the various cleanup and evidence-gathering crews sweep in like a swarm of angry ants was interesting, but hardly helpful to his growing anxiety.

Briareos paced the edge of the group goading his AI to find _something_ of use on the ESWAT network for him to find his girl by. The urge to just peel off and do his own reconnaissance was growing by the moment.

His captain caught him by the arm as he stalked past on another circuit, seeming to read the trend of his thoughts. "Hey. No solos, ok? I m already operating sans-109, here, you don t get to wander off and get lost too."

"I need to do _something_." Briareos argued, knowing it was futile.

"You honestly think you can out-track a super computer and an array of a couple hundred satellites? Try again!" Magus barked with laughter. "Wait and see. She'll be _fine_. You know her. I know her. Hell during that Mufadi incident last time she was functionally blind in her left eye, and still managed to take down a nest of terrorists solo! If anything I'm more worried about her penchant for massive f'ing property damage when left alone than I am of her getting hurt."

"HQ to Alpha Team. You're not going to believe this, but- We have a 911 in progress. Dispatch says 109 called it in! Transmitting coordinates now."

Magus swore incredulously, as the rest of the team abruptly stopped lounging and stood in their exo's ready to deploy. "That girl is going to be the death of me. Hold up team, I've got a direct line to our lost sheep..."

"What?" Briareos stared hard at the exo-encased officer, unable to stop himself from feeling upset about the fact that his partner was alive, and talking, but not to him. "What is she saying? Is she alright?"

It wasn't her decision, he told himself. It was to be expected that if there was urgent information, it would go to the team-lead, but still. It was infuriating. His AI reached out across the network to try and integrate into Magus systems in order to eavesdrop, instinctively responding to his angry determination to know what his girl was saying. He realized what it was doing a moment later and mentally slapped it back from doing anything invasive. Hacking a teammate's hardware was not going to help the situation any, and likely garner him further demerits on an already piss-poor week. Magus dropped out of the general com link as he focused on his conversation with Deunan. It didn't take long.

"Ok! Move out, folks. I'll brief in the air." 21 ordered at last. Kicking off into the sky, he broadcasted a standard battle-group formation as he lead the way across the shopping district and towards the city. Unlike HQ's initial guesses, Deunan wasn't located in one of the priority defense sectors around the conference, but rather off in one of the lower-income residential districts. Briareos marveled that she might have actually followed the terrorist cyborg home successfully after all.

"Listen up. 109 was able to confirm that she has suspect pinned, likely incapacitated from the sound of it. But there wasn't too much detail so don't let your guard down! She's asked me specifically for 120, and Bradly's demolition &amp; recovery team on hand which tells me that the moron's probably gone and dropped _another_ building on herself somehow. I swear that woman- The rest of you I want to fan out, secure the area for Bradley's guys, and any incoming EMT's or transports. Keep a sharp eye for any unexpected allies coming out of the woodwork. This isn't a particularly friendly area for folks in uniform."

"I'm going too." Briareos wasn't above butting in.

He couldn't fathom his woman's odd choice of backup, Bradley's crew in particular were not even actively on an assault team, they were the god damned techs that did field repairs, and cut locks off of buildings to be raided. He shook his head at his woman's latest insanity. She was shot in an alley half-a-zone away, and had the presence of mind to go asking for a demolition team? What the hell was she thinking? Airborne, he tailed the other two LMs, scanning the streets for any sign of distress.

"I don't suppose mentioning this will help at all, but your little woman _did_ explicitly state, 'Not Briareos,' a second ago." Magus candid drawl came over his radio on the suit-to-suit channel.

"Bullshit." He replied, not in the mood to humor either Deunan's insanity or Magus teasing. "She must have taken a knock to the head if she said something as dumb as that."

The dark haired officer snorted in agreement as they closed in on the location. "You may not be wrong. She sounded really off. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about her condition. She was cracking jokes, and didn't mention getting shot, but still, the sooner we get an EMT to evaluate her, the happier I'll be. If you want to stand by to shout at her should she get uppity about getting on the damned gurney? That'd be a help."

"Got it." Briareos agreed.

They cut across the highway in a flash before performing a preliminary circle of a four block radius of the slum. Briareos was hard pressed to call it a slum, honestly, anywhere but Olympus, it was probably a rather middle-class sort of neighborhood. It was only by comparison to his own airy and tree lined neighborhood that it felt so poor. The place he'd lived in while in Germany hadn't been much different from this, and before that? Was little better than a bombed out ruin. LA was better, but then it hadn't been through a war for over a hundred years, they'd had time to pick up the place a bit.

21 interrupted his thoughts with a random feeling question. "Hey. Does the phrase, and I might have completely misheard this, but does 'fucking-bowl-cut-guy' mean anything to you?"

"What? 'Bowl-cut-guy'?" Briareos shifted his track a little, three LMs all trying to land in the same narrow alley was a tight fit. Somewhere a few blocks back, their techs were working their way through traffic to join them. Distant sirens proved an ambulance was also on its way. "No, it doesn't. Why do you ask?"

Scanning the shadowy space with suit-lights on bright, they all searched for their missing teammate. Weirdly, Deunan was nowhere to be seen.

"Your woman dropped off the line rather abruptly a second ago. I think that's what she said right before she cut out." Magus mused. "Or dropped the phone. Or did whatever fuck if I know. It didn't sound like she was in trouble, just really surprised... Seemed a weird thing to say though."

"No idea." Briareos felt crippled by the fact that he couldn't raise Deunan by either radio, wishing they'd thought to have some additional backup mechanism in place to cover this eventuality. It would be remedied, he told himself firmly, just as soon as he found her again. The reason why her's had been fragged was because of an electrical attack, but if she carried a spare in a shielded case somehow? Then it would be protected until needed, he decided, but how to carry it conveniently? He debated options with himself while he tried to puzzle out where she'd hidden herself this time.

"This is the right area, the report said alley behind the building... and the cell trace lead us right here." He looked up at the fire escapes and then down at the litter piled in stacks around them. "113 to command, please disconnect and redial on the number you recorded from the 911 call? Let's see if we can make audible contact."

The sudden ringing of a phone made them all turn to inspect an unlikely pile of recycle-ready materials. Shifting the baled cardboard and light plastics out of the way, it became clear where the assortment of light goods had slumped from a more orderly stack against the wall. Deunan's borrowed phone was at the bottom of the pile, cheerfully playing 'Shake your Moneymaker, Bunny Maker, Baby' as it tried to get its owner's attention. Briareos stooped to retrieve the device as 120 pulled the last few stacks of paper away. Still no sign of Deunan, but there _was_ an open manhole at the bottom of the heap.

Stepping back, Magus cycled the locks on his exo, stepping out and pulling one of the floodlights free from his armor. Crouched next to the opening to the utility-tunnel below he panned the light within, and made an abruptly displeased face.

"Fuck me. There she is. Well now we know why she said not _you_, 113. Talk about a tight squeeze. 120, strip out, you're going for a walk!" Pitching his voice louder he called into the tunnel, "109?! If you can hear me, wave or something, ok sweetheart?"

The slimmest of the three of them, 120, also stepped out of his armored landmate in order to assist. Pulling a medical kit over his shoulder and checking his sidearm before squeezing into the service tube the younger officer climbed down for a closer look. Magus held the light steady, not complaining as Briareos leaned over him, also trying to see.

It was a long way down. He fretted, unable to make out more than a familiar looking pair of boots as 120 leaned over his woman to check her vitals.

"She's alright! Just unconscious!" The junior officer called back up to them, sounding relieved. "Looks like concussion, and small round to the abdomen, but she seems stable. She must have applied a skin patch to herself, there's not much blood. There's several scuffs on the floor down here, sorta look like arrows pointing under the street to the west, should I follow?"

"Negative." Magus ruled out. "Stand by to assist EMTs. 109 said her suspect wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, and I believe her. We'll wait for Bradley and the gear before we both go down for retrieval." Turning back to Briareos, the normally merry officer grimaced in sympathy. "Looks like there's nothing much you can do here, iron-man, this is a job for us meaty, flexible types. You're better off returning to field command, dropping your LM, and just meeting her at the hospital."

"Great." He sighed, torn between relief and annoyance. "I'll wait until you fish her out, if it's all the same."

Magus shrugged, wise enough to recognize when issuing an order was futile.

* * *

DEUNAN

The world resolved around her with a sloshing sensation and a blur of white. For a moment Deunan blinked and worried that she was still aboard the sinking cargo ship, and that everything that had followed, from her rescue to the gunfight in the sewers had all been some kind of dream. Then the wailing noise resolved into the recognizable pattern of an ambulance siren, and her brain fitted in the rest of the pieces from there. Gurney, EMTs, saline drip line, she looked up, over the top of her uncomfortable 'bed' to see forward into the driver's compartment, orienting herself. She was being transported? Did that mean - she hissed out loud at the feel of someone pressing against her wounded abdomen with businesslike pressure.

"Fuck that hurts, do you mind?!"

"Huh. Awake, are you? Good." Her medic leaned over so that she could at least see the face of the man she was swearing at. "Welcome back, 109. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Four." She growled, rubbing at her side, feeling the fresh skin-patch over the likely bullet-hole. "Soon to be three if you keep waving them in my face like that. God damn, did you have to press so hard?"

"Your old one was damn near bled through." The medic pointed out, not at all intimidated by her glare. "The wound looked clean though. Right through you. Smells good, so I don't think they got your intestine. You're a damned lucky girl. Still, you're going to be looking at at least two weeks of bed rest. Not to mention what falling on near-cracked-ribs is going to get you. How the hell were you ever judged field-fit in the first place? All you ESWAT lunatics are masochists, I swear."

Deunan shook her head, dismissing the scolding. Not like she hadn't heard it all before. "Whatever it takes to pay the bills, you know how it goes. You get paid to transport people in ambulances. I get paid to put bad-guys in'em."

Trying to sit up, to alleviate the potential motion sickness if nothing else, got her another no-nonsense hand to the chest, pinning her to the stretcher. "No way, lady. You're not ungluing that patch by moving around right now. You're not moving at all until someone at a higher pay-grade than me gets some serious stitches into you. So lay back and enjoy the ride, ok?"

"Bullshit." She disagreed grimly. "Let me sit up or I'll puke all over you, and that'll do my wounds a _real_ heap of good." Reaching up she felt for her ear, belatedly realizing that even if her communicator was still clipped on it wasn't it had been damaged by Agara in their fight. "Damn it... get me a communication line, would you? I want to report in."

The instinct to check in with her team existed before her memories even properly caught up with her. The sewers, Agara left pinned beneath the tangle of shattered pipes, the grueling climb up the iron-rung ladder to the manhole, her relief at hearing Magus' sarcastic good humor on the phone, and then? What? There was something, she felt grimly, that she was forgetting. Something important, something that had surprised her so badly that she'd forgotten completely what she was trying to tell Magus on the other end of the line because it was just too crazy to be believed.

The memory of the thick mop of heavy looking blonde hair, the ridiculous lantern jaw, and the glimpse of pale eyes came back to her with a physical jolt. _Him_ her nerves sang at the memory of the man, almost close enough to snatch at, but still too far away. _He_ had been there! She was certain -nearly certain- that she hadn't been hallucinating it. Mr. X had been walking, calm as can be, down the sidewalk opposite her alley, only just a minute ago! _That_ was what she had to tell Lance and the others!

"Seriously." She barked, snapping her fingers at the EMT sitting next to her. "I need a com-line. _Now_."

"We're almost at the hospital." Her medic disagreed. "Whatever it is, they can take care of it for you. Please lay down or you really will start bleeding through!"

"God damn it, if you don't do as I say, a lot of people could die tonight who won't even see it coming!" She slid her legs sideways, glad to find she hadn't been lashed to the gurney as she maneuvered herself into a position where she could minimize the bending she had to do to get upright again. "Where are we? How long was I out?"

"Ma'am I appreciate that you- Oh Christ, now that's not funny!"

The medics had stripped her of her flack vest, and most of her armor in their initial triage, but they'd failed to find the gun tucked into the plate on her thigh. Deunan didn't hesitate to pull it on them, mind already working frantically as she tried to figure out how much time she'd lost. "How long have I been _out_! This is fucking _important_, ok?!"

"Maybe half an hour! I don't know. We only loaded you up ten minutes ago... How long you were down that ladder knocked silly is anyone's guess! Put that damned thing away, would you? We're on your side!"

"Half an hour..." She exhaled, weighing her options. It was a long lead, but not so long as to be impossible. Not now that she _knew_ he was here, and if he was dumb enough to go sauntering down the street in front of all the traffic cameras... If she started the trace _soon_ there was a _chance_, a genuine chance.

"Where are we?" Seeing the blank look of the man in front of her she turned to shout at the driver. "What the hell intersection are we at?!"

"Fourth and Belmont, westbound! Get back on that stretcher and surrender your sidearm, officer, or we'll be obliged to put you on report! You're going to cause an accident back there!"

"Fourth and... I'm getting off here!" Deunan barked back, willing to take the writeup for disorderly conduct if it meant she could corner Mr. X. "I need to get to HQ, now. This can't wait."

"What about the damned hole in your side!" The closer EMT stood as well, bracing himself against the side of the truck as his partner took a tight turn to avoid cars. "You _need_ to go to the hospital! That's not a fucking scratch, woman. You need to see a doctor as soon as possible. The only reason you're on your feet at all right now is the adrenaline!"

"It'll keep." She hoped to god that it would. She'd been shot before and this time it didn't _feel_ bad, but massive trauma was funny that way. "I don't plan to finish my shift or anything. I just need half an hour with the mainframes, and to tell the brass what's going on. After that I swear I'll get myself to the ER and let the doctors read me the riot-act, ok? But I don't fucking have time to be tranked to my teeth right now, there is shit I _have to do. If you won't take me to HQ then I will damned well open the back doors here and _roll out_ into traffic and to hell with both of you. I'm in full possession of mental faculties and a legal adult here, I have rights. You can't take me to the hospital if I say no. Even if I am bleeding!"

"Christ, you're a crazy bitch." The driver critiqued. "You're really going to hijack your own ambulance to take you _back to work_? Are you that nuts?"

"No. Just damned certain that some _bad_ shit is going to go down in the next few hours if I don't call this in... Come on guys," She moderated her voice into a calm she didn't particularly feel. "Cut me a break, would you? You don't want to be working mop-up shifts any more than I do if the shit hits the fan later and I didn't do my best to stop it."

"Crap." The EMT behind the wheel spun the vehicle to the right, changing course abruptly. "You know we could lose our certification for this, right? We're not supposed to let patients bully their way out of treatment when their lives are in danger..."

"You've got until we get to the front door for me to sign whatever I need to sign to waive you both from any responsibility for my self-avowed stupidity." Deunan agreed grimly. "Also, if you have anything to take the edge off the pain so I can think clearly for a bit, I'd really appreciate it."

"Bloody hell." The medic beside her pushed her back down onto the gurney, letting her sit up this time as he first jabbed something into her arm and then thrust a digital pad into her hands. "Wait a minute for your hands to stop shaking, then sign all three pages, Officer Knute. And god help you, if we don't see your name on the ER admission list down at central within 45 minutes we're coming back with a tranquilizer gun to _carry_ you down ourselves. You hear me?"

"Duly noted." She agreed grimly, marveling at how quickly the fast-acting drugs took in her tired limbs. The pain in her side dulled from tear-jerking down to almost reasonable within moments. "How long will this shit last?"

"Given your metabolism at the moment? Probably fifteen minutes." The EMT braced her shoulder as they took another tight turn, then slammed on the breaks. Leaning the other direction, he released the latch on the door and hopped down to the street in order to give her a hand in climbing down out of the ambulance. "After that, you'll definitely be crawling though, so make the most of it, huh?"

"Great. Thanks." Deunan staggered free of his helping hand, marveling at how they had been good as their word. She was steps from the main lobby of the central annex. "I owe you both."

"Whatever the hell you're doing. I hope it's worth your life." The man replied harshly, climbing back into the vehicle. "Let's go, we have another call."

Feeling decidedly frumpy as she staggered through the lobby, Deunan tried not to make eye contact with any of the official-types coming and going. It was rare that she came in through the front on even an good day, and with her uniform in pieces, and an obvious bandage taped to her side, she knew she wasn't looking her best. Seeing the nervous looks from the admins sharing the elevator with her, she holstered her gun to at least keep the pretense of professionalism.

"Twentieth-floor, please." Deunan nodded tiredly towards the girl standing closest to the buttons. "I'm kind of in a hurry."


	21. Chapter 21

**Promethean Blood - ch 21 -**

Manga continuity: HyperNotes/V5 continuation fic

Deunan &amp; Bri in a police drama in Olympus - Actiony smiting &amp; swearing ahoy. some cuddles. A lot of shouting. typical appleseed fic (I hope)

All characters and themes are Masamune Shirow. This is just my take on how I wished unfinished-V5 might have gone...

_\- Sorry posting this took so long, for those who were waiting. somehow I though I Had posted it and to my surprise checked recently to see I'd left it a bit of a cliff hanger. Whoops! Thanks for your messages &amp; feedback as always! Without further delay the 'thrilling conclusion' :-P -_

* * *

DEUNAN

Her hands started to shake again mid way through pulling up the street-level surveillance feeds. She clenched her fists a moment to encourage the blood to flow to where she wanted it to rather than just stubbornly pooling against the tape on her side. A few keystrokes more and she took a slow breath as dozens of images popped up on her screen, all of them spooling backwards to the requested timestamp. With some of the most complex pattern-recognition software in the world at her fingertips, Deunan rapidly sorted the footage until at last, pay dirt. The angle was bad, but the stooped posture, and almost absurdist hairstyle was unmistakable.

There he was. She exhaled in satisfaction, glad to find she hadn't just dreamed it. Locking the software onto his profile, Deunan smiled in grim pleasure as each successive camera down the street spooled to an incremented time slice and showed his progress. Someone hadn't been in any particular hurry, either not suspecting anyone was watching, or that anyone would care. Really, Deunan mused, he wasn't wrong. If she hadn't seen him with her own eyes, she'd have never noticed him. Even Gaia, with all her eyes on the city and her database of persons of interest to constantly scan for, hadn't picked up his face in any of the automated sweeps, not yet. He must have used a disguise, or kept clear of any optical sensors with sensitivity enough to really _see_ him up close? No mean feat in a city as automated as Olympus.

Instructing the program to assemble the array of images into a single composite for her report, she two-finger typed up her brief request for emergency support on her reconnaissance effort, firing it off to the CIC and Lance in particular. No doubt, she mused, someone would be calling to chew her ear off in a moment. Glancing at her clock, she noted that the initial digging had taken only ten minutes. Closing half the windows, she cued up the software to continue its scan for the next ten blocks, deciding she might as well trace him for as far as she could before either the brass, or the paramedics yanked her off the scent.

The pain in her side evolved from irritating, to murderous as the minutes trickled on. Weirdly the drugs wearing off only helped her brain work faster, she was outpacing the computer on some of the searches, skipping ahead by seconds of footage by sheer instinct as she disentangled where he had crossed a street in a crowd, only to pop up one intersection later in a crystal clear shot. Again he ducked out of view, confusing the software, and again she guessed right, placing him behind a sign-board and visible again a half block later. He entered the lobby of a fancy plate-glass office building. She caught a peripheral view of him in the interior, thanks to a restaurant with security cameras by its door. Exiting through the south side entrance, Mr. X then crossed a street and... disappeared.

Deunan cursed at the dead-end to her search, backing off on the images in order to call up a street map. It was a hotel. Frantically typing she set the computer to check all street views from all other entrances and exits to the building for the time between the last image of him she had, and the present. After an excruciating minute of crunching, they all came back negative. He was still there? Or he had totally given her the slip. She cursed, suddenly worrying about basement passages and rooftop escapes.

Picking up her phone, she made to dial the switchboard for the air-police, and was surprised to find a call was connecting through to her even as she was about to dial out. "109, you're supposed to be in the hospital. What the hell are you doing at your desk?" Colonel Lance didn't sound exactly amused.

"Did you get my report?" She asked, pressing her hand gingerly to her side to try and mitigate the pain.

"I'm looking at it right now." He remarked with his usual calm. "While I applaud your powers of observation, woman, I think-"

"I have him entering the Historia Hotel on fourth street as of 10 minutes ago." Deunan cut him off, too aware of her limited ability to focus to bother with nicety with her boss. He would forgive her once Mr. X was cornered, she was certain. "Been watching all entrances since, no sign he's come out. Requesting air-surveillance for potential roof-top exit. They have a helopad. Also. Someone on the gr- ground."

The last of the medication burned out with a lurch, leaving her teary-eyed and panting with the new influx of unwanted pain. "He's so close I could _spit_ on him. She growled, annoyed at her weakness. Please, sir... We can get him... I know we can."

"Understood." Her commander agreed. "You however are done. Get yourself down to the department medic and have him see that you get proper treatment. You've done enough, officer."

"Yessir." She steadied herself with a breath, noticing vaguely that her fingers were wet where they pressed against her side. The bandage wasn't holding up much longer she mused. That was two she'd burned through already. Probably not a good sign. "Is B- is 113 still with the team?"

"He was released from further duties as of fifteen minutes ago, in order to verify your condition, 109." Lance wasn't above finding some cynical humor in the news he gave her. "Probably he's standing in the hospital lobby right now wonder where the hell you are."

"If he's still on his way... he's probably going right past the hotel..." She mused aloud. "Thank you sir." Feeling almost like she was in a dream, she disconnected the call and dialed again, leaning her head forward until she could rest it against the edge of her monitor.

"This is 113... wait... Who's this?"

She smiled faintly, realizing that Briareos was probably confused as hell by the call coming from _his_ desk at work. "Hi baby."

"De- Christ, what the hell are you doing at the office?!" Her partner sounded half-way between amazed and horrified. "I _saw_ them load you into an ambulance!"

"Yeah, I woke up on the way and had them re-route me. Bri I need you to do something for me. It's really important. Are you still armed?"

"Always. Why? What does that matter?" He sounded ragged. "You were _shot_, Deunan. Why didn't you go to the ER? Are you crazy? I'm coming to get you right now..."

"Hotel Historia." She panted softly, trying to not let him know how much it hurt to get the words out. If he started spazzing on her she'd lose Mr. X for sure. "I need you to go there first. Please, baby. It's our best chance. You have to go and find him. He's somewhere in the building. Maybe a guest, maybe visiting someone. Flash your badge around for me and _find him_. Ok?"

"Deunan, what are you talking about?" His audible confusion made her want to smile. Poor Briareos, she figured, he was totally lost. Clicking weakly with her mouse, she forwarded him the cleanest image she has of their mystery man from six months ago, the picture only ten minutes old.

"You getting this?" She asked as the software confirmed the data sent. "That's from just across the street from the hotel. Show it to the lobby attendants, see what they say. He's _there_ Bri, right now, probably plotting some new shit for us to mop up at the damned conference... And I'm not going to let him get away, not this time... he _owes_ me."

"Holy crap." Briareos commented pithily as he saw what she had seen. "That's what you were trying to tell us before?! 'Bowl-cut guy'... Christ Deunan, you get shot by a psychotic cyber-sex-doll and you _still_ have time to apprehend a no-name terrorist from five and a half months ago? Really girl, you could have let him go just this once. Nobody would have blamed you."

"_I'd_ have blamed me." She hissed, feeling her body plateau a bit now that it had stabilized at its current level of misery. It hurt to breathe, and to move, and even to blink, but she was sure the last was just psychosomatic. "Please Bri, just until the others get there... check it out for me? I really don't want him to get away again."

"Damn it, hellcat." He cursed, no doubt pissed at her for making him choose between his instinct to prioritize _her_ against his desire to _help_ her get what she wanted. "What's your status?"

"Stable, but not great." She confessed. "I'll keep until the paramedics come and kick my ass back to the hospital. You're not missing anything."

"Ok." Briareos sighed in resignation. "I'm right here anyway. Let me go see what I can get in five minutes. You staying on the line?"

"If you'll let me." She teased softly. "You know I love listening to you bust people's balls."

He was in a take-no-prisoner's mode too, she smiled again as she listened to his pithy demands of the clerks at the front desk. A manager was fetched in short order, and guest-ledger software opened for her partner's inspection. No rooms were booked to anyone that matched their description, but they struck it lucky with the doormen, one easily recognized their Mr. X, and quickly linked him to the name of a known guest. A Mr. Appleson of suite 6018 had been seen in their mystery man's company for several days now, and yes, the thick-jawed blond had _just_ stepped upstairs, presumably to visit with his associate.

Briareos accepted the escort up to the sixth floor, communicating with Lance and the other commanders at the same time as keeping her line open, advising them of his progress. Teammates were cutting across town to assist with the run-down as needed, she heard, but her man was still given the go-ahead to ascertain whether or not their person-of-interest was still in the room. Perks of having built-in top-of-the-line surveillance gear, Deunan mused. What Briareos could pick up from just listening through the door, and peering through the tiny fish-eye security lens that every hotel room door came equipped with was more than just about anyone else, short of running some spy-fiber through the ventilation ducts or around the doorjamb.

"This the one? On the left?" Briareos' soft question, addressed to the manager walking with him was enough to get her to tense again, alert to whatever he would find. A long silence as he approached, and made his initial observations made her grip the edge of the desk in anticipation.

"No movement." He reported cryptically at last. "Looks like 1 person, male, probably 170cm, maybe 124 kilos seated at the table by the window... Christ, we need to get in there, now. 113 to HQ I think we have a body. I'm cracking the lock."

Deunan couldn't hear Lance's reply to that. But she was sure that her words were probably similar. "Wait, Bri don't open the-" An abrupt, and painfully loud 'woomph' of noise made her wince and duck her head on instinct, never mind that she was blocks away from the action. "Bri!" She called out in alarm, not caring that people at several desks near hers turned to look at her outburst. "Shit, Briareos, are you ok?"

"Ow. Son of a bitch." He growled, mostly to himself, either not hearing her, or prioritizing her at a lower degree than his immediate surroundings.

"Hey. You ok?" This was probably addressed to the poor guy who had been standing next to him in the hall. "Call down and get that alarm turned off, and get this floor cordoned while you re at it. Sure, yeah you can evacuate the other guests, just don't let them _leave_ the building, ok? No I don't think the fire will spread, the sprinklers seem to have got most of it. Damn... blew the windows right out." Deunan sighed in relief as the sound of his preoccupied grousing, sinking back down into her chair.

He sounded fine. Annoyed, but fine. Once he gathered his wits, and probably due to Lance's irate prompting on the other line, Briareos began providing further details on the scene. "I've got a corpse bound to a chair. Pretty badly scorched from the blast, but still intact enough that we can get _something_ out of it. No, it definitely isn't Mr. X. The manager thinks it might be Appleson."

There was a long pause as he listened to a question she couldn't hear.

"I don't know. I'll ask him once he stops puking in the bathroom, shall I? Yeah, letting the CIS guys follow up with him is probably better. No I didn't even touch the door. I had just jacked into the damned key-plate to see if it had any watch-dogs on it... apparently it did. Yes, I was being careful. Look, I can see the squad truck pulling up to the front of the building now. I'm going to check out the fire escape... slippery bastard had to go somewhere... Yessir. Yes sir, I understand."

Deunan blinked to clear her eyes, remembering her more mundane fears from minutes before her partner had almost been blown up. Tapping at her keyboard, she tried to get a view of the hotel's roof. The satellites took a moment to oblige her. Fiddling with the magnification, she hissed in amazement at the movement of rotors. A helo was taking off? Now? Coincidence be damned. "Bri! I've got movement on the helo pad, _now_! I think it may be - Shit. I can't tell from this angle... how fast can you run?"

"We're about to find out." He remarked grimly. "That guy owes me a new uniform. I am seriously pissed. Tenth Floor. Twelfth. Fifteenth." Her partner counted off floors by twos and even threes as casually as if he was watching an elevator ascend, only she knew that he was probably vaulting banisters _up_ the fire escape at the same time. Not for the first time she marveled at how he could make the most awesome things seem practically commonplace.

"Twenty five and there's the roof access." He huffed, only just beginning to sound out of breath. "And... crap. It's too far up to make out the tail number... no wait. Way to go air-police! For _once_ they do something right! Tail number 011427AXT, looks like a private shuttle service. I have visual confirmation of blond male in the front passenger seat. Probably heading for the- Crap! It has guns! We've got downed craft on Fourth Street. Officers in distress! I can't do anything else here, I'm going street-level to help. Remaining air police unit is going to need backup though..."

Deunan cursed softly, knowing in her heart that it was too late. Mr.X would make a clean escape _again_. Closing her eyes, she tried to console herself that she'd at least given him a run for his money. Whatever it was he was planning in Olympus, it would be a lot harder for him to do now that they knew he was here, and he knew they were watching. Hopefully that would be enough? She cursed her luck again.

"Deunan?" Briareos' voice came to her as she blinked back tears of frustration. "You still alive?"

"Sure, baby." She wiped at her eyes. "You ok?"

"Scorched, but I'll live." He assessed candidly. "It looks like I'll be a few minutes here. If you're not at the ER by the time I'm done? God help me, I will shoot you myself. Understand me?"

"Yes, baby." She laughed weakly at his audible annoyance. "Leaving right now, in fact. See you in thirty?"

"As soon as I can." He agreed, disconnecting the call.

Deunan nodded to herself to get going. Taking a breath to brace for the inevitable pain, she pushed off the desk and onto her feet. The ability to stay upright lasted all of ten seconds. She'd waited too long to go anywhere without some outside help she realized with chagrin as she collapsed sideways onto the carpet. Unable to stop herself, she accidentally knocked the phone off its hook and caught an entire folio full of drafted reports on the way down. It certainly got the attention of the officers around her, she mused as she lay on the floor, blinking stupidly up at the suddenly too-bright ceiling lights. At least the shouting was pleasantly muted. The words unintelligible, as random people grabbed a hold of her arms and shoulders, barking conflicting orders at each other, and at her. Deunan tried to wave them off to keep them from smothering her, but couldn't seem to coordinate her hands well enough to do much of anything. Weirdly, despite all the garble, she was almost positive she could recognize the voice of a certain disgruntled sounding EMT barking as she woozily felt herself lifted off the floor at last. His cursing commentary followed her into unconsciousness.

* * *

Waking slowly from a cozy painkiller induced haze, Deunan took a second to realize that the man sitting by her bed, keeping her company, wasn't Briareos. Captain Sudoh was in her partner's usual chair, looking bored as he read from his magazine.

"Hey?" She blinked, confused at the unlikely sight of her senior officer playing bedside attendant.

"Welcome back." The older officer offered casually. "Thirsty?" Unable to wrap her head around the idea of him sitting with her, she nodded mutely.

Hitomi or Yoshi might have been unusual, but not remarkable. They were friends after all. Lance? As unlikely as it would have been for the old man to come sit with her while she slept, he might have had a reason to related to work. He at least had an aura of parental-concern about him despite his often gruff, and frequently rushed demeanor. Maybe that was just her projecting, she mused, since he was at times not an altogether different man from her father.

But Sudoh? Since when had he given a crap about her outside of work? She marveled even more as he set aside his reading to kindly fetch a glass of water from her side table for her. He held it patiently so she could suck on the straw and set it aside again when she was done.

Looking around the otherwise normal hospital room, a private suite, she discovered approvingly, provided no explanations. Pale colored wall paper, tile, and pleated blinds were all as they should be. Even she seemed normal enough, dressed in typical hospital smock and tucked into bed, IV s and monitor bracelet attached. She was too lethargic still to want to go poking at herself to see just what the damage had been. The doctors would come and yell at her soon enough, no doubt. The only thing in her current scene that was utterly out of place was the sour faced man currently lounging in the chair beside her. Deunan wondered whether she was in bizarro-world as she watched him, belatedly remembering her manners. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He replied in his usual dour way.

Water helped to refuel her wits, Deunan blinked again, noting that the man was wearing a standard hospital lounging-robe himself. He was still a patient? She felt silly for having forgotten even for a moment that she hadn't seen the man since he'd been carted off from overexposure to the CX-5 gas days ago. Magus had crawled back onto his feet in time for the takedown of the remaining cyborg-sisters, but Sudoh hadn't. The senior officer's being around the hospital to play nursemaid to her suddenly made a little more sense. But only just.

"Your partner got called back to HQ for some bullshit or other." The captain offered without prompting, rightly assuming the question would be on her short list. "He said he'd be back in a couple of hours."

"Oh."

"Said something about how you're not thrilled to be in hospitals alone. Who is? Honestly. But... I volunteered to sit with you a bit." Sudoh shrugged at his unlikely generosity. "Not like I've got anything to do while I wait for my kidneys to flush. I'm not getting out of here until my white-count drops to something vaguely normal. Some vacation. Huh?"

His way of talking was just as intimidating when not running the squad. Deunan decided. It was genuinely weird, because she got the sense he meant well. It wasn't like he was actively trying to intimidate her the way other COs had over the years. He was just... that kind of a guy. She wasn't sure what she was meant to do. Just chatting with him like they were buddies felt... wrong. Pretending to go back to sleep was also not going to happen.

Still, it was even more rude to stare at him blankly for the afternoon, so she scrounged around for a topic. "Are your lungs are doing ok?"

"Mostly finished regenerating. Yeah." He sat back in his chair and looked towards the windows with a rueful expression. "I could kill for a cigarette right now. How stupid is that, huh?"

Deunan had to smile weakly at that. It sounded like something Sudoh would say. Before of she could think of something else to banter with, he was back to staring at her instead. His heavy look easily quelling any infant ambition she had of filling the awkward silence.

"Heard you walked the gas off with barely tickle. Magus was bitching about it to me afterwards while he was still here. For such a small girl, you're an unexpectedly tough woman, Knute. Strange to think we've known you a year and you can still surprise us."

"Girl's gotta have some mysteries..." She couldn't help but joke. It fell a bit flat under his steady gaze. It was stupid to want to apologize for her luck. She wasn't certain what she'd done to displease him. It wasn't like her immunity was of tactical importance before the mission had started, so it wasn't like she d concealed the information deliberately. Probably, she resigned herself, he just had that kind of face. Deunan tried to remember when she'd last seen the man genuinely smile and not just his usual sardonic smirk. The exercise reminded her inevitably of her incredibly awkward not-fight with her partner the night before. Sure they d been somewhat miserable lately but she knew she could make Briareos laugh, and him her. Who made Sudoh laugh?

Briareos wasn't going to be laughing today. That was damned sure. He was undoubtedly going to be pissed. Deunan tried to brace herself for the inevitable shouting, knowing this time she definitely deserved it. No matter how hard she tried to do things the right way , it just never quite worked out. Some combination of bad luck, bad temper, and people trying to kill her usually resulted in safe tactics going out the window at some point. She sighed in resignation, like her father, Briareos being disappointed in her was apparently her destiny.

"I was married when I came to Olympus. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

The statement was so unexpected she didn't know how to respond. Deunan stared at the older man blankly as she tried to puzzle out his meaning.

"Two beautiful little girls too. Still in diapers." Sudoh continued, studying his hands, seemingly bored by his inexplicable confession. "I was recruited out of a special ops unit in Spain at the time. I was in a rut, and Lance made a very compelling offer... and... well I don't know if you know much about Spain, 109, but... comparing quality of life there, to what you can have here? We're talking apples and oranges... or hell, apples and pineapples even. I mean, at the time, they were rationing _water_ by the liter. They still do, during the summers, the droughts get that bad. So getting the chance to leave that behind and come here? Was fantastic. Or so I thought."

"What happened?" Deunan couldn't help but ask. Clearly it hadn't been good.

"We relocated." Sudoh shrugged. "I started work. Melinda stayed home with the girls. I set her up in a comfortable house in the suburbs; all the latest conveniences, free healthcare for the kids, produce market practically across the street. All she could ever want. Work was damned hard. Lance was still building up the initial teams and I was gone until midnight most days... Months went by, and I thought everything was going great."

He shrugged again. "Only realized much later that we never really talked about what _she'd_ wanted before moving. Or about how she was adapting to life here. I thought she felt the same as I did, that we'd provide the best we could for the girls. Sure things would be rough, and I'd pay dues for a few years... But things would get better once the girls were in school and I was settled into a desk job. It never really occurred to me that she wouldn't like it here... Wouldn't feel she could fit in, or make friends. Even when she tried to tell me she hated it here? I just didn't listen. Didn't want to, I guess. It took coming home to find she'd left, with the girls, for me to realize just how unhappy she'd been."

"Where'd she go?"

"Home." He looked up at her with sardonic mirth. "Back to Spain, and the rationing, and the poverty, and the whole nine yards. She saved up grocery money behind my back and just... bailed out. Left a note for me saying I wasn't the man she'd married anymore, that Olympus had seduced me away from her."

"Ouch." Deunan offered what sympathy she could. "I'm sorry."

"My fault." He shrugged again, eyes distant as he considered his past. "No one to blame but myself. I was so wrapped up in all that this new life had to offer... I forgot that it didn't mean much if she didn't feel the same way."

"Do you still talk?" She had to ask.

"Sure." He nodded. "I support them as best I can from here. Send letters to the girls, pay for their education, that sort of thing. Melinda found herself a man who was happy to stay settled in Barcelona with her, and they live together now. I suppose we're even still married... but it doesn't matter much. I'm not going back. And I can t see her ever returning here. The girls might come to live with me, some day, if they want? But I doubt it. Spain is all they've ever known."

"I had no idea." Deunan bit her lip, wondering what had prompted his admission of something so painfully personal.

"Listen, 109, it's none of my business..." Sudoh sat up and rubbed the back of his head, also looking uncomfortable at the insight he'd given her into his private life.

"And you can tell me to back the hell off if you want to, you're certainly entitled... but... Where you're at right now? With your partner? I've been there. It sucked. And I handled it really badly. If I'd been more understanding. Or been willing to talk about any of this shit with her? If somehow I'd let her know that despite all the... crazy," He made a twirling gesture with his hand to encompass their hospital room, and the city beyond. "That she still meant a lot to me? Maybe she wouldn't have left. Or maybe she would have, but it would have been less surprising... I don't know."

Sudoh recovered rapidly from his earlier mood with the a return of his usual cynical expression. "They call it 'the two-year-curse', 109. Anyone told you that yet? Any relationship you bring with you, from beyond Olympus? Probably will detonate spectacularly before two years of living here are up."

"Because people get homesick?" Deunan frowned, confused. She hadn't heard of it before, and given how much of a nosy do-gooder Hitomi was? She wondered why not. It seemed the sort of thing a friend should have warned her about by now. But maybe it wasn't even on the bioroid's radar. She'd lived in Olympus all her life. Maybe she just didn't notice? It felt strange, especially given how closely Hitomi had worked with other 'immigrants' for so many years now. It was something to talk about with the woman, at any rate, when next they met up for coffee.

"I imagine there are all kinds of reasons." Sudoh shrugged at her question. "Going from smaller cities to a metropolis like this? There's new opportunities, socially, professionally, emotionally... there's the stress of losing contact with the folks back home, maybe. There's the plain-and-simple culture shock, for a lot of us. But you know what I think most of it is?"

He looked over at her thoughtfully. "I think people just get carried away with the newness of everything. There's so much to see, and do, and learn... and it's easy to forget what used to matter, or dismiss it as 'stale', or to just take it for granted, that the way you feel for them won't change when everything else you've ever known, or been, is now called into question."

"It seems to me, that the rare people who _stay_ in their previous relationships? They're the ones who ride the wave of newness as a team. Who some how manage to see, and do, and change... but keep true to their identity as a partnership, despite the pressures from outside to get distracted by everything else. The ones who just go blindly forward, thinking that their relationships will be fine because they always have been before... Those are the ones who find themselves alone sooner than later."

"Oh."

"I don't want to see that happen to you and the big-guy. Knute. I mean... I know shit about your private lives, and I really don't _want_ to know. It's none of my business. And I'm also not saying that I don't want you to get better, as solo operatives within our team. Because that goal is still valid and valuable for both of you in order to grow as individuals. But that shouldn't come at the cost of the partnership that's clearly worked for you both for so long. I can't watch the two of you unraveling the way you have been these past weeks without at least saying something... telling you to wake up and recognize what's going on, at least. To fight for it, if staying together is what you want. Or acknowledge that you've grown apart, and find some sane way of dealing with it, if you're done with him. You're a good team. It'd be a shame to lose that, especially to something as predictable as this. I'd tell him the same thing, except he's even more bull-headed than you are. I doubt he'd have let me even say half as much before walking out on me."

"I'm a bit of a captive audience right now." Deunan joked weakly, gesturing to the machines attached to her as they monitored her condition.

"Yeah, there's that too." Sudoh agreed. "So look. I've said my peace, alright? Strictly off the record, and in a non-chain-of-command way. Make of it what you will. But my vote? Is that the two of you work this shit out, and not let Olympus get the better of you. You're too good to be just another statistic."

He pushed out of his chair and swept the wrinkles from his sweat pants, seeming suddenly embarrassed by the whole conversation. "I'm checking out tomorrow probably, but I'll see you at muster when you're back on your feet. Keep your nose clean, and do what the doctors tell you. No more pulling weapons on EMTs. You hear me? It's bad for our PR."

Sudoh paused at the door, seeming to wrestle with himself for a moment. "And... If... you need to talk to someone about this shit... well... I can't say I've got any good advice on how to _not_ make a hash of it... but... the team councilors are good. And they've definitely seen this stuff before... So get help, if you need it. Alright?"

"Yeah." Deunan rubbed at her arms, suddenly anxious for Briareos' presence, although she was still stumped as to what to say to him. "Thanks..."

"Don't mention it." He sketched a salute and let himself out.

* * *

Deunan told herself not to cringe immediately at the familiar sound of a certain cyborg's footsteps outside her door. Morning had slipped into afternoon in the slow way it usually did in hospitals. She'd gotten her nurse visits done. Then there'd been a perfunctory visit from the doctor, who'd flat out called her a moron and questioned her for suicidal tendencies. That had been fun. She sighed and poked at the remote panel, turning the TV off. She hadn't been watching it anyway, not really, and doubtless Briareos wouldn't be interested. Deunan straightened out her blankets as best she could with an aching abdomen, fully aware now of what she'd suspected before. Not only had she been tranq'ed the minute the EMT's had returned for her, she'd gone through surgery without even knowing it. It was a new low for her, she figured, and one her partner was hardly going to be thrilled by.

Her partner let himself in with minimal fanfare, duffel bag under one arm and shopping bag in the other. He'd stopped by the house, Deunan realized as she watched him quietly unpack her robe and slippers from the larger bag, setting them out for her for later, if she felt up to walking around. The shopping bag, she noted, contained more of the thoughtful-but-ordinary hospital supplies. In a weird burst of nostalgia it reminded her of several of her visits to _him_ back when he'd taken 2 AP rounds to the gut mere weeks after they'd settled in their new city. She watched in silent amazement as the last item that emerged from the bag was even a small bundle of flowers. Tulips, she recognized them by their cheerful colors. The small bunch was in a little vase of the sort came pre-made at the store, but still. It was a nice addition to her bedside table.

"Guys at HQ clinic say you owe them some pizzas." Briareos stated dryly as he settled into the chair beside her at last.

Deunan winced at the oblique reference to the fact that she'd utterly failed in their personal objective of 'not ending their shift at the hospital again'. Trust him to bring that up even before their usual awkward hospital-smalltalk she thought to herself.

"I called for backup." She offered weakly. "No one came."

"I know you did." He agreed, equally soft spoken. "Thanks to you, the dispatch folk have uncovered no fewer than five points of failure in their protocols for dealing with officers who contact them through unofficial channels. And they're due some remedial training for one of their dispatchers too apparently someone actually blew you off? I'm told that the appropriate heads will roll..."

"I swear... I didn't instigate the fight with Agara. I was just tailing, like I was told..." Deunan continued stubbornly. Sure she'd fucked up, she figured, but she'd _tried_ not to. That had to count for something, right? Maybe the RPG bit at the end counted as instigation, her guilty conscious pointed out to her, but _he_ didn t need to know. And besides, it had worked, hadn t it? "And... I called for backup once I was hurt... I took care of myself first... but... the tracker was local-only. I had to follow her or she'd have disappeared for good..."

"Debatable. But... not unreasonable." Her partner nodded slowly.

"I saw my chance to apprehend, and I took it." Deunan concluded, feeling on slightly stronger ground if he wasn't going to start yelling. "She never even got a chance to get a shot off... not the second time anyway... There was a bit of property damage. Which wasn't ideal, I agree... but she wasn't getting out of _that_ without help, you know?"

"Damage was minimal. Those steam pipes were redundant, as it turned out." Briareos' extendibles tilted in his version of a wry smile. "Probably you did someone a favor with your impromptu demolition. No charges made against the department, from what I've heard so far."

"Sweet!" Deunan smiled in genuine relief. It was a rare op where she didn't have at least one dressing down over expenses to look forward to.

"Your Guges on the other hand..." Briareos drawled, almost playful as he deflated her bubble of joy.

"Trashed?" She confirmed what she'd suspected. His nod of agreement made her sigh in minor regret. "Figured as much. But it still beats that _and_ a building, right? No lawsuits..."

Briareos hung his head in momentary defeat, his huff of laughter proving he wasn't genuinely upset by her low-threshold for victory. She raised an eyebrow at him when he looked up again, daring him to disagree. She'd caught a tough perp, not blown up any major structures or terrorized any civilians, really, if the worst thing that happened was getting injured, and trashing her mech? It was a pretty damn good thing... compared to her established record. A definite step in the right direction, as far as the department's lawyers would be concerned.

Still, he wasn't happy. She told herself to stop squirming and face the music. He clearly thought she'd fucked up _somehow_... even if he wasn't shouting. Best to pull the band-aid off sooner than later, she figured. "So... if I managed all that... how come you're still pissed at me, huh? I mean... what more can one girl _do_, Bri?"

"I'm not pissed about Agara, girl." Her cyborg disagreed, sitting back in his chair to look at her candidly. "I'm not pissed at all, I think. It's more... I guess I m just frustrated, and... a little sorry for myself... if I have to be honest. I knew this wasn't going to be easy for you. It was stupid to get my hopes up that you'd 'get it' in terms of what I asked you to do."

"I called for backup." Deunan disagreed, feeling worse by the minute. "I _did_... what was I supposed to do? Recruit civilians to piggy-back me down the street after her? I stole that poor guy's phone so I could call it in... I hope someone gets it back to him..."

"This _isn't_ about the op, girl." He cut her off with a curt gesture of his hand. "This is about _after_. Think for a second, would you? Or can you not even remember? What happened _after_ that?"

"I called the dispatch morons and asked for a pickup..." She twisted her fingers in her blanket. Looking up in defiance, she stared at him. "That means I called for backup _twice_, old man..."

"I know that." Her cyborg wasn't appeased. "What happened after that?"

Deunan winced. "I... slipped and fell."

He sighed at her understatement but didn't make a deal out of it. "I know that too, what about _after_ that..."

"... This is about the ambulance?" She hazarded a guess, belatedly remembering that she _had_ done something... more than a little stupid, in hindsight. If even Sudoh had heard about it, trapped here in the hospital as he'd been? It had to be the talk of the force by now. So much for any 'teamwork' points she'd been trying to wrack up. It was all to be done over now.

"This is about the ambulance." He agreed flatly. "Deunan..."

"They wouldn't give me my radio!" She tried to explain her reasoning for threatening the EMTs. "I just wanted to call it in- to warn people! He was _right there_, baby. I could have spat on him... And he had no idea. I just couldn't let him get away Not again."

"It didn't have to be _you_, girl." Briareos pointed out. "And you did a lot more than just call it in..."

"Without the photos, noone'd have believed me." She grumbled.

"_I_ would have believed you." Her partner offered, unswayed. "_I_ could have run that trace, Deunan. Or, I could have told one of the data-jockies to do it. We knew your location. I was _there_. It'd have been easy for someone else to find the first surveillance image, and from there we'd have traced him to the hotel..."

"Not as fast." She disagreed. "Besides, how was I to tell you, huh? The dispatchers routed me right through to Magus And the EMTs were being so damned stubborn It would have probably been post-op before I could make anyone listen to me..."

"You don't _know_ that." Briareos was adamant, leaning forward as his temper finally got the better of him. "I would have been here to meet you before they wheeled you into surgery if you d just gotten here like you were supposed to! You could have told me then! Damn it, Deunan! You're not alone! Whatever you may think, you're not alone in this! If you can't bring yourself, after a _year_ of working with these people to trust them to help... then for god's sake, at least trust _me_!"

"I do trust you!" She felt tears welling and wiped at them in annoyance. "I _do_. It's just..."

"You don't _want_ my help..." He sat back again, this time with genuine seeming defeat as he finished her thought for her. "You might as well say you don't want _me_, hellcat. Because that's how it seems here, on my end. You tell me you want to know how _I_ feel? Well there it is. I feel that you'd rather have the glory, than your own life. And that you'd certainly rather have glory, than _me_. And... that hurts, you know? And I feel like a tool for saying it out loud... but you tell me you never know what I m thinking. So... I'm saying it."

"I want you." Deunan disagreed, feeling about as low as she could go for the third time in so many days. Worse yet, he wasn't even shouting,not really. She swallowed and struggled to find something to mitigate his accusations, but there was precious little. "I don't... I _do_ want your help."

"But you still got out of the ambulance, girl." He rubbed his head in frustration. "I _thought_ you were safe! I had been so stressed, with you not reporting in... And then we found you, and you were hurt... And I watched the EMTs load you up and I finally let myself _relax_, thinking you were _safe_. But you weren't..."

"I'm sorry." She couldn't meet his eyes, staring at her hands against the rumpled sheets. "I'm really sorry, Bri."

He sighed heavily, "I just... I don't know what to say, girl, to make you understand."

"I understand." She disagreed. "I just..."

There really was no getting around it. She d just scared the shit out of him, again, like always, and he d earned the freakout he was having fair and square. Sure she'd at least been successful in her goals, this time, most of them, but like always it seemed to come at the cost of her partner s good graces. Deunan bit her lip and for a long quiet minute waited for him to just give up and leave in order to clear his head of her bullshit. It was what he probably wanted to do. It was no more than she deserved.

The impulse to hunt the stupid bowl-cut blond terrorist had been instinctive, it hadn't been like she'd put a lot of - or any - thought into it. She'd seen her objective, and gone for it, forgetting the rest. She was guilty as accused. She'd done exactly the sort of thing that'd been getting under Briareos' skin for these many months and she hadn't spared a single thought to him, or _them_, or anything else other than her desire to _get_ the blond bastard. There was something seriously wrong with her, Deunan marveled at her earlier determination. In hindsight risking her neck for a chance to get a claw into a stray terrorist had been an incredibly reckless, and shitty thing to have done to her partner. Worse still was she didn't know how to stop it from happening again.

"Oh well." Briareos exhaled, seeming to let go of his dark mood with the exercise. "I suppose it could have been worse."

Deunan sniffled back her runny nose in order to look up at him in total surprise. "How do you figure?"

"Well... you could have tried to go after him yourself. At least you thought ahead enough to send me instead." Her partner declared dryly. "Let's call that an improvement, shall we? My skin is a bit better suited to taking near-misses with explosives after all."

The peace offering was nothing short of miraculous. Deunan blinked at him, feeling rather as though she'd just had a stay of execution. If he wanted contrite repentance? He had it, in bucket-loads, she resolved. The fact that he didn't seem to want to hang her out to dry? Was almost too good to be true. 'Be Kind', she'd asked of him, and that's what she got. She exhaled shakily herself, feeling her immanent crying jag easing off. It just went to show, yet again, that he really was the better person, of the two of them. Telling herself to save the inferiority complex for another moment, she mustered a wet smile. "Yeah well... I'd lose my bad-girlfriend card if I didn't at least _try_ to blow you up once a day. Right?"

Briareos leaned in to press his lips to her cheek, the metal kiss no less sweet for its lack of pucker. "You're not a bad girlfriend, Deunan. You're just- a _very_ exciting one. Just maybe a little too exciting for this old bucket of bolts, some days."

"I'll work on that." She promised him, turning her face against his to nuzzle his jaw. "Someday, I'll be nice and boring for you, huh?"

"I wouldn't take it _that_ far." He huffed with tired laughter. "Just _a little_ less crazy, girl. That's all I asked. One notch down. Maybe two at most. Crazy is fine... just not suicidal. Alright?"

"I'm sorry." She apologized again, feeling the ache in her side where the hole in her was held together with stitches and tape as she leaned against his shoulder. "I'm _really_ sorry."

"I should have gone with you. With the ambulance." He sighed, nuzzling at her gently. "If I had... I'd have been there when you woke up... and you could have just told me what you needed... and there'd have been no drama at all."

"Other than you getting blown up, still, in chasing after my phantom? Yeah." Deunan nodded. "But you didn't know I was going to spot the jerk and get mental about it. It's not your fault..."

"Let me take _a little_ of the blame, girl." He disagreed. "I can't go bitching at you about putting the job before me, if I'm doing the same damned thing half the time. Either _we_ come first, or work does. It's no good if one of us is pulling one way, and the other is going a whole different way."

"I guess." Deunan winced at the idea of him volunteering to be a less diligent cop in favor of being a more attentive boyfriend. But even as she thought it, she realized that was _exactly_ what he was asking her to do. It begged the question, why was she even resisting the idea? Her duty-driven partner was flat out telling her to work less? Enjoy life more? It sounded like a no brainer. Deunan closed her eyes and let herself relax against him, trying to rationalize her ambivalence towards the concept. It was too much to wrap her head around, she supposed. Too much for today, at any rate. Probably she'd have tons of time, while her body healed, to think things through properly. For now at least, it was nice to know she'd been forgiven.

Deunan wallowed in the sensation of relief for a long minute, letting her thoughts drift as they wanted. It wasn't an entirely restful exercise she found, her brain kept wanting to replay portions of the past months she wished she could forget. But mixed in with all the bursts of guilt and stress was something she wanted to understand. Something about, Briareos, about herself, about Olympus and LA and why everything was so different now than before. Sitting there, leaning against her long suffering partner, Deunan found that the confused jumble of shifting what-if's fell into a sort of pattern, leaving her with what felt like a perfectly sensible if not 100% coherent revelation. Shifting against his shoulder, she mulled over whether she wanted to tell Briareos her idea, and if so whether now was the right time. If he thought it was a dumb idea she could just blame it on the painkillers.

Deunan mustered her battered courage and caught her cyborg's attention with a nudge. "Bri... could we do something together? I mean, not right away, but after the bruises fade and I'm cleared for action again?"

Her partner's hand stilled its light rub against her shoulders as he fielded the random conversation starter. "Sure, girl. What did you have in mind?"

"I want us to go to the training grounds and practice... the way we used to in California. Just us." She grimaced at how weird it sounded, to have to ask him to train with her.

They hadn't used to _ask_ each other. It was just something they'd always done. It'd been something they'd done for fun, practically, as normal a part of their weekly routine as buying milk and eggs. That they hadn't picked up the habit again, on returning to Olympus? Seemed strange to her. Even in the badlands they'd practiced... or at least talked through scenarios together. Here? Maybe it was that they just did too much practicing with the team. Practicing even more, on their own, just hadn't even been on her radar. It was something to talk with Lance about, she mused, but first she wanted to see what her cyborg thought.

Briareos shifted beneath her cheek, seemingly startled by the request. His hands slid over her back to settle her closer against his chest. "I don't see why not. Am I allowed to ask why?"

"I think I need it. The practice, I mean. I think _we_ need it. It's just- if I'm going to condition myself to _not_ go scaring the crap out of you every time we go into combat? Maybe we should work out just how we're going to manage to do that _before_ the next big op. And... also... I think maybe... I don't know, big guy, but since we've gotten here, we've trained a lot with the team, and as individuals, but we've sort of stopped training with each other. Have you noticed that? We used to sort of make up our own tactics, back in LA. We'd find what worked for us - just between us - and then work it in with the rest of the team later. And here, it's more, we're just being told 'do it this way', and I can't help but feel its not working so great."

"You doubt the advice of the finest tactical trainers in the world?" Briareos nuzzled her hair not sounding all that displeased at her proposed rebellion. "You really think we can do better on our own?"

"It's not that, handsome. I mean, the strategies are good, right? But they don't know _us_ the way we do. You've been complaining lately about our 'rhythm' being off and maybe maybe part of the reason why is because of this pressure on us to conform to _their_ way of doing stuff. So, I was thinking maybe there's some middle ground we need to find. Use their tactics... but do it our way."

"So... you're saying- we should take ownership of our own tactics?" He mused aloud.

"I think we should at least make sure that in trying to please others, we aren't destroying what made us a great team in the first place." Deunan shrugged against his shoulder, wondering if he thought her idea was as crazy as it sounded. It rather flew in the face of his recent 'work less' mantra.

"Ok. Count me in." He gave her a gentle squeeze. "Any time you want to train with me, girl, I'd be happy to join you. Say the word and I'll reserve us a block of time. And Deunan..."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Briareos brushed his lips against her ear.

"For what?" She had to laugh at little at his positive reaction. She'd hoped that he'd grudgingly go along with it. Instead he seemed to think it was an even better idea than she'd thought herself. Understanding him was impossible some days. "For signing us up for even _more_ time at work?"

"For helping me think of ways fix this mess between us. He disagreed. For being willing to _try_. It- It means a lot to me."

"Me too." She forbid herself from getting misty-eyed again, snuggling closer into his arms as she tried to pretend she was someplace, anyplace, more romantic than stuck in the hospital. "We're partners. Right? We get through this shit together..."

"Right." Briareos huffed with amusement. "Absolutely right."

"You mind if I sleep on you a while, partner?" Deunan yawned against his shirt. "Cuz' I don't think they're letting me leave this dump before tomorrow... and you're a lot more comfortable than the stupid bed is."

"I'd be honored to have you sleep on me, Ms. Knute." His teasing attempt at chivalry made her smile as she closed her eyes to rest. "I always am."

"Even when I drool?" She smiled wider at the chance to tease.

"Especially when you drool."

\- Fin -


End file.
